Medic Eugene Roe felt he had to do something for the men's plummeting morale. The deep sorrow in Heffron's eyes made his heart tremble. He had been with Easy Company, training and fighting alongside the men, since Toccoa. He had personally treated too many wounded and lost too many comrades. He thought he had become numb, but Heffron's grief still struck a profound chord within him. He and Heffron actually had a pretty good relationship.
He decided to make another run to Bastogne to get more morphine and bandages for the men on the line, as supplies were getting tight. Easy Company had been well-stocked initially, but Colonel Sink had ordered them to distribute their supplies equally among the other two battalions. Now, they were also starting to feel the pinch.
Doc Roe rode to the Bastogne aid station in the company Jeep. Accompanying him was Lieutenant Welsh, the Executive Officer, whose feet were starting to lose feeling, and he wanted to see if there was a solution at the aid station.
"I told you, Lieutenant, you have to unlace your boots, let your feet breathe, and keep moving them!" Doc Roe, sitting next to Welsh in the Jeep, shook his head. "There's no good solution for your problem right now; it's up to you to manage it!"
"Son of a bitch!" Welsh swore coarsely. "These damned Germans, this damned weather—I keep feeling like something's wrong lately, and it's probably this foot! Eugene, I hope you're wrong and that they have something for me. I don't want to be dragging around a useless foot; that's too depressing!" Many in the company affectionately called Doc Roe "Eugene."
"Well, I hope so too," Doc Roe shrugged, indicating his acceptance of the situation.
The Jeep pulled into the Bastogne aid station. Welsh quickly found a doctor, a French volunteer serving the American medical unit who, crucially, spoke English. This was good news for Welsh. He grabbed the doctor by the arm right at the entrance.
"My foot!" Welsh plopped down on a large stone outside the aid station, pointing to his foot to show the doctor.
"Trench foot!" The doctor merely glanced at it and prepared to leave.
"Wait, Doctor, I wanted to ask if there's any solution!" Welsh called out. "I hate trench foot! Please help me fix it; I have to get back to the line!"
"There is no way. You have to take care of your feet yourself, but that is impossible under the current conditions," the doctor said simply, offering no treatment, and walked into the aid station.
"Oh, damn it!" Welsh cursed, then followed him. "Doctor, at least give me some medicine!"
"Look, Lieutenant, we have no medicine here to cure your trench foot. We are about to start surgery!" The doctor said, taking a stretcher bearing a blood-soaked soldier. "Do you still plan to stand around here?" The doctor's tone was impatient; clearly, he thought Welsh was taking advantage of his rank.
"Fine," Welsh shrugged resignedly. "I guess I'll just have myself some hot food. Hopefully, that will do something for my trench foot!" To be honest, Welsh knew there was little to be done for his condition, but he wanted an excuse to return to Bastogne. If he could also get some hot soup, he would feel much better.
Doc Roe watched Welsh's antics, shaking his head with a slight smile. Then he entered the aid station, and his heart ached as he saw the stream of people and the rows of wounded soldiers. He looked around, trying to find someone—a nurse or a doctor—who could give him the supplies he needed.
He saw a young woman with a blue headscarf moving quickly around the station. She was carrying a bottle of peppermint schnapps, pouring a cup for a nearby wounded soldier. Another nurse walked over, looked at the wounded man, and asked the woman with the blue scarf, "How is this one?"
"It's not severe; we can bandage it up first," the woman replied, then reached out a hand and gently stroked the soldier's head, giving him a warm smile. They were speaking French, which Doc Roe didn't understand, but he watched her with a faint smile.
"God, am I in heaven?" The wounded soldier grinned at the woman. He felt much better after drinking the schnapps, and the woman caressing his head was like an angel.
Seeing the woman about to leave, Doc Roe quickly stepped forward. "Nurse, I need morphine and bandages! I'll take as much as you can spare!"
The woman glanced at Doc Roe and said softly, "Come this way." She spoke English, and Doc Roe understood. He followed her deeper into the aid station.
She led him into a small storage-like room, talking as she went: "I can give you some, but I can't give you too much. We don't have enough here either; supplies just haven't been getting through!"
The woman took a large wooden box from the clutter and began loading items into it, saying, "Bandages, morphine... do you need this? There's a little plasma, but of course, I can't let you take it; it's needed more here! Are you a surgeon?"
Doc Roe shook his head, holding the wooden box. "No, I'm not a surgeon. There are no surgeons on the line. Oh, what is this?" Doc Roe asked, pulling out a wad of cloth strips from the box.
"Torn from bedsheets. They can be used as bandages," the woman offered a bitter smile. "That's everything! All that you asked for and all that I can give you is right here. You can go now."
"Thank you," Doc Roe nodded, giving the woman a small smile.
The woman nodded and started to leave the room. Doc Roe followed her, asking, "What's your name?"
"Renée," she turned back and gave Doc Roe a slight smile—a typical French girl's name.
"You can call me Eugene," Doc Roe kept pace with her. "Eugene Roe."
"Where are you from?" Renée looked back at Doc Roe, smiling.
"Louisiana, a quarter Indian blood," Renée was walking quickly, and Doc Roe had to hurry to keep up. "And you? Where are you from?"
"Bastogne," Renée suddenly stopped. She looked at Doc Roe, her expression dimming slightly, though she still smiled, a bit helplessly. "I'm from Bastogne, and so is my family. I'm a volunteer."
"I know," Doc Roe nodded, then split his lips in a grin toward Renée. "Alright, thank you. I have to go." With that, he walked out of the aid station, hugging the wooden box. He then saw Lieutenant Welsh drinking soup and shouted at him, "Lieutenant, I'm finished. Are you still going to stay here?"
Welsh felt much better after a few sips of the hot soup. Just a little hot soup could warm his heart, frozen on the line, and make him feel a surge of strength. He nodded. "No, I have to get back to the line. If I'm late, Captain Parks might kick my butt. Did you get your stuff? Oh, great. I hope we never have to use it on myself! Alright, I'll drive you back, start to finish." He walked toward the Jeep.
Doc Roe smiled faintly and was about to follow Welsh with the wooden box when he heard someone call his name: "Eugene!"
He turned around and saw the woman in the white dress and blue headscarf quickly jogging out of the aid station. She had a radiant smile, with two dimples appearing on her cheeks when she laughed. She pursed her lips, and the corners of her mouth curled up slightly, calling out to Doc Roe again, "Eugene!"
Doc Roe stared at her for a moment. He hadn't noticed her beauty inside the emergency room, but stepping out of the shadows into the golden sunlight filtering through the sky, her beauty was like that of a pure angel! His lips twitched slightly; he wanted to smile back, but he couldn't manage it.
"Here!" Renée stopped about four or five meters in front of him, then lightly tossed a square, paper-wrapped item to Doc Roe. "Chocolate! For you!" Renée slightly twisted her body with a hint of girlish shyness. Her smile was like bright sunshine, illuminating Doc Roe's heart.
"Thank you," Doc Roe nodded at her, taking a couple of steps backward. Suddenly, he tripped on a rock, staggered, and nearly fell. His clumsy reaction made Renée smile again. Doc Roe, feeling awkward and embarrassed, nodded to Renée and jumped into the Jeep Welsh had pulled up.
"That's really unfair!" Welsh grumbled, glancing at Renée behind him before starting the engine. "I come all the way here, and no one will even look at my foot, but you get a gift from a pretty girl. I'm genuinely jealous!"
"Just drive, Lieutenant!" Doc Roe was somewhat annoyed by Welsh joking about Renée.
"Alright," Welsh shrugged, then stepped on the gas, and the Jeep sped off toward the defensive line once more.
Renée watched the Jeep leave, keeping the smile on her face until it disappeared around the corner, then returned to the aid station. She felt a sense of closeness to this somewhat serious-looking medic and even hoped to see him come back to this place again.
Back on the line, Parks was looking at a map in his foxhole. When Welsh jumped in, Parks said without looking up, "How do you feel?"
"Pretty good. I had hot soup, so at least my mood is much better!" Welsh patted the snow off himself.
"I mean your trench foot!" Parks finally looked up, smiling at him. "The aid station didn't treat you? That's too bad. They ignored our Lieutenant. We'll make them pay for that!"
Welsh laughed softly. "Don't joke, Race. Few people can be like you. Even after spending so long in a place like this, you don't show the slightest sign of weariness. I really admire you!"
Parks smiled slightly. He knew Welsh couldn't understand him. In his past life (a clear novel-specific insertion), he had endured much longer periods in environments much tougher than this to complete his missions. The harsh conditions in Bastogne were nothing to Parks. He wasn't worried about himself, but about all the Easy Company men, who didn't have his endurance or strong body!
"Our biggest difficulty isn't logistics; it's the men's morale!" Parks looked through his binoculars toward the German positions outside the line. "I just observed them. They have ammunition resupply and countless amounts of food and clothes. But we have nothing—we can't even get artillery shells. We need to figure something out!"
Night quietly descended.
Flares from both sides constantly flashed in the air, illuminating a large area before quickly dimming, and the brothers' faces in the foxholes were lit up, then dark, then lit again.
Those who had been on missions during the day slowly recovered their spirits, staying in their foxholes, gradually regaining their confidence in the alternating light and dark.
But Heffron's mental state was not good.
Dr. Luo tried to find him, but he was not in his foxhole, and no one knew where he was.
"Lieutenant Welsh?" Dr. Luo saw a figure in the snow; it was Lieutenant Welsh, who was taking off his boots outside his foxhole, exposing his feet.
"Damn it, Eugene, you've got to find a way for me; I've tried everything, and this damned foot just isn't responding!" Welsh sat exasperated on a tree trunk lying in the snow.
"Sir, you must keep your feet dry, massage them, change your socks daily, and dry wet socks on your neck!" Dr. Luo rubbed his hands and told Welsh.
"Alright, I'm trying to do that, it's unbelievably awful!" Welsh shook his head, saying this with a hint of gritted teeth.
"I advised him a long time ago, but he never listens.
If he could have stayed at the aid station for one more night, his foot might have gotten better; they could light a fire there, it's the best!" At this moment, a voice suddenly came from behind; it was Parks.
He walked out of the foxhole, looked at Dr. Luo, and smiled, "I heard you met a girl from Bastogne?"
Dr. Luo was stunned, then rubbed his hands a little awkwardly: "Yes, just met her, a very nice girl.
They are all from Bastogne, and... and we don't have much interaction!"
Captain Parks nodded and smiled at Dr. Luo: "Who are you looking for so late? Heffron?" Parks knew that Heffron's mood was at rock bottom due to Julian's death and needed someone to talk to him, and the most suitable person was Dr. Luo.
After all, in his previous life, Heffron only emerged from his emotional slump because of Dr. Luo.
Dr. Luo nodded, then turned and walked a few steps, only to hear Captain Parks' voice from behind: "That—that girl's name isn't Renee, is it?"
Dr. Luo was startled.
He turned his head to look at Captain Parks, saw a slight smile at his lips, and nodded: "Yes, sir.
She is Renee!
Do you know her?"
Parks shook his head and smiled: "No, I don't know her, but I do know the name of the prettiest nurse at the aid station.
Work hard!" Just as Dr. Luo was about to turn and leave, he heard Parks' voice again: "Eugene, you—you'd best pay more attention; the aid station isn't a safe place either.
Now perhaps shells can't reach there, but German planes can.
So—" Parks stopped speaking here.
He smiled, then turned and began talking with Welsh.
Dr. Luo stood blankly for a while, realizing that Captain Parks had no intention of speaking further, yet he couldn't understand what he meant by his words, so he shook his head with a bitter smile.
He didn't feel it was appropriate to ask why, so he simply walked forward.
But after just one step, he heard Captain Parks' voice again: "If you're looking for Heffron, you'd best check in Dr. Spina's foxhole; you might find him there!"
"Okay, sir!" Dr. Luo replied, then muttered softly, "Why doesn't he say it all in one sentence?"
As Captain Parks said, Heffron was in Dr. Spina's foxhole.
He was covered with a blanket, curled up beside Spina, his gaze sorrowful and helpless.
Clearly, he had not yet recovered.
Both sat there, leaning against the foxhole, unmoving.
Dr. Luo jumped down, then looked at Heffron, pulled out a piece of chocolate from his person—it was given to him by Renee.
"Try this!" Dr. Luo said, breaking off a piece and bringing it to Heffron's lips.
The bitter and sweet chocolate melted at Heffron's lips, and then the intertwined taste of bitterness and sweetness slowly permeated his mouth.
Heffron reached out, took the chocolate from Dr. Luo's hand, and gently bit off a piece with his teeth.
"We should have gone to save him!" Heffron murmured, "I shouldn't have said those things to him.
I told him if he died in battle, I would go to his hometown to greet his mother.
Damn it, why did I say such a thing?"
"You couldn't have saved him; he probably wouldn't have lived long then!" Dr. Luo glanced at him and said, "I know, no one can survive after their neck is torn open by an MG42 bullet!"
"But the Germans will strip him! I can't even get his dog tags or his letters!" Heffron suddenly choked up, leaning his head tightly on Eugene's shoulder.
He couldn't help but sob, his shoulders trembling constantly.
"Alright, it's okay, it's okay.
What he endured, we will get back from the Germans!" Dr. Luo gently patted Heffron's shoulder, comforting him.
No one knew what could be recovered from the Germans, but everyone knew one thing: the Germans were much stronger than Easy Company now; they were numerous and well-supplied.
Captain Parks watched Dr. Luo leave, an idea already forming in his mind.
He was determined to rescue the wounded and doctors from the aid station, and even more so, to rescue that angelic nurse, Renee.
Regardless of how she and Dr. Luo's relationship would develop in the future, the flower of the battlefield must not be allowed to wither in a pile of ruins.
"I told you to go to the aid station.
Now look how bad things are!" Parks shook his head, looking at Welsh.
"Don't tough it out.
Tomorrow, you go to the aid station for a day, otherwise, I'll have Winters issue you an order."
Welsh raised his hands and smiled: "Alright, alright, don't go there, I'll listen to you.
Reese!" As he spoke, he carefully slipped his bare feet into his socks, carefully put on his shoes, and tied the laces.
The entire process was done with extreme caution.
"What should we do about the brothers?
If this continues, the brothers will break down sooner or later.
The cold and lack of supplies are relatively minor problems; the key is that the Germans maintain pressure on us.
They are well-supplied, and their artillery can strike us anytime, anywhere—that's what destroys the brothers' will!"
"I know!" Parks nodded, "Plus, the first combat patrol was a defeat.
If we want the brothers to regain their spirits later, we must give them hope, make them not fear."
"Who would be suitable to command the patrol?" Welsh looked at Parks, then walked towards the foxhole, saying to Parks, who followed him, "P-Kack is a loser.
Heliger is a better leader, but he's a bit too cautious, not suitable for combat patrol; Speirs?
No, he's a fanatical advocate of offense, clearly, he's suited for charging into battle, not combat patrol missions, that would get the brothers following him killed."
"Who else?" Parks looked at Welsh and smiled, "You missed one person!"
"No, I didn't, did I?
We won't send the platoon sergeant, you know that's against regulations!" Welsh shook his head, clearly having no other candidates.
"Captain Parks should be a good candidate!" Parks suddenly said seriously to Welsh with a smile, "Don't you think he's the most suitable person to lead the patrol team?"
Welsh couldn't help but open his mouth wide, looking at Parks: "Oh, Reese, this is no joke, you leading the patrol team?
Dick will give you trouble!"
"Then we won't tell him!" Parks smiled slightly at Welsh.
"Are you sure?" Welsh looked at Parks' serious expression.
"Yes, yes, now is when the brothers need me.
I should do something for this.
Harry, I am the Captain, I must give the brothers confidence!" Parks answered seriously, "Don't let the brothers despair in desperation!"
"Alright, you make the decision, I support you!" Welsh shrugged, "When are you planning to start?"
"Tomorrow night, there will be heavy snow tomorrow night.
I've already received the weather forecast from battalion headquarters, and our patrol will start then!" Parks nodded at Welsh.
Welsh decided not to say anything more.
He had nothing more to say.
Every decision Parks made seemed incredible, but each time his decisions led the brothers out of desperate situations and to victory.
He had followed Parks in Operation Panther, and during the operation, he had witnessed Parks' decisive command and amazing tactical ability, as well as his heroic lone wolf side.
Now he even wondered if he was blindly following Parks.
The sky was gradually brightening.
A ray of light shone into the foxhole, stimulating Dr. Luo's eyes.
He squinted slightly, looked at the light outside, then turned to look at the two guys beside him, Heffron and Spina, both sound asleep.
He moved his body slightly, trying to pull back the blanket, but he disturbed them both.
"Hey, Eugene!" Spina smiled and greeted Dr. Luo!
"Hey, Eugene!" At this moment, Heffron beside him also opened his eyes and greeted Dr. Luo.
The depressed expression on his face had disappeared, replaced by a slight smile at his lips.
"Hey, Howard!" Dr. Luo smiled at him.
"No, don't call me Howard, only nuns call me that!" Heffron grumbled unhappily, making Spina beside him burst out laughing.
Dr. Luo was stunned, then looked at Spina in surprise, shrugging his shoulders: "Did I say something wrong?
Isn't that his name?
No, I didn't make a mistake!"
Spina couldn't help but shake his head and smile bitterly: "Eugene, do you never call people by their nicknames?
That's not very good; it makes you seem very serious, making people not want to talk to you much!"
"Then tell me what Howard's nickname is?" Dr. Luo tapped his helmet, then suddenly looked at Heffron and chuckled, "I know, Babe!
Hehe, Babe, what a great nickname!"
"Hey!" Heffron couldn't help but smile at Dr. Luo, "Babe?
The way you call people nicknames is really funny, still so serious.
It's the first time you've used such a serious expression to call me by my nickname!"
"Yes, yes, Howard, there's always a first time for everything, isn't there?" Dr. Luo looked at him, smiling slightly.
For the men of Easy Company, a new day had begun, but how many more such days awaited them? None of them knew the answer. On the front line, a ray of sunlight once again cast a golden hue upon the snow.
Captain Parks decided to personally lead the patrol tonight. The First Platoon's combat strength was superior to the other two platoons, as they had participated in the Arnhem assault with him. Although some of the men had been on patrol yesterday, he believed they would recover, and his personal leadership would boost their morale once more.
Captain Parks was not being overly optimistic about his men's capabilities. From the Normandy landings onward, even though the veterans sometimes seemed lackadaisical, they were always very serious and experienced when it came to missions. Moreover, many of them were very willing to go on missions with Captain Parks.
The Germans had an endless supply of weapons and ammunition, and their artillery bombarded Easy Company's lines incessantly every day. They had an countless amount of food, and never lacked variety; the provisions unloaded from their trucks daily made the men of Easy Company envious. They had thick greatcoats and warm blankets, enough to keep them warm during the cold winter days. The men of Easy Company, however, had nothing but the thick greatcoats they had brought on the day they set out. They didn't even have time to bring their thick blankets. And even their thick leather boots became hard and cold after long hours of walking in the snow.
"I really envy the Germans!" White gnawed on a snowball sprinkled with lemon powder. He had just seen through his binoculars that the German forces were setting up large cauldrons, boiling hot food. And it seemed the German forces were deliberately letting them see, as they swaggered, scooping steaming food from the pots, their faces beaming with warm smiles.
But the men of Easy Company could do nothing about them, because the artillery regiment's shells were almost depleted; one cannon had at most three shells left, and these cannons were also needed to blockade the road from Foy to Bastogne.
"This is unfair!" Malarkey also cursed at the German lines. He threw down his binoculars, not wanting to see the Germans' triumphant faces anymore.
Just then, Lipton's loud voice was heard shouting, "First Platoon, get ready! We're going on a patrol mission! Assemble at the company command post at 4 PM, everyone must attend!"
"Oh, why us again?" Luz was the first to react. He said to White beside him, "Heaven, is Captain Parks mistaken? We just had a mission today. And we lost Julian, damn it!"
White shook his head and said, "I don't know about that, but since I'm assigned, I'll go. I don't care about anything else!"
"How is Heffron doing now?" Luz asked. "He seemed unwell yesterday. If we really have to go, Heffron can stay behind. Sergeant Martin can talk to Captain Parks about it!"
"Don't ask me to do those things!" White shook his head, then walked out of the dugout on his own. The sunlight outside was indeed very appealing, and the darkness inside the dugout made them feel as if they were becoming part of the earth—sticky and cold!
How was Heffron now? Several people had asked this question, all worried about Heffron's state. And now they had to go on another patrol mission; they hadn't yet escaped the shadow of the last one.
"Alright, I'll go talk to Captain Parks!" Martin pursed his lips. He looked at Luz and then at Sergeant Lanny. "I know his condition isn't good, but don't expect it to succeed. I don't want Captain Parks to get a bad impression of me." Martin said, glaring at the two with some dissatisfaction. Clearly, it was Luz who had instigated Sergeant Lanny, and Sergeant Lanny who had then persuaded Martin.
Sergeant Lanny shrugged helplessly, while Luz made a face at Sergeant Lanny, then mimicked Captain Parks's tone, saying, "Heffron's spirit is wounded? Don't worry, I'll bring all my men back, not one less."
"You imp!" Martin laughed and cursed at Luz, then gathered his equipment and walked towards the company command post.
The First Platoon would be executing another mission, which surprised many, as they had just completed an unsuccessful patrol, and the other two platoons also harbored different emotions. Speirs decided to talk to Captain Parks; he believed that at least the men of the Third Platoon should also have a share in such patrol missions. He was tired of staying in the dugout all day and urgently needed to go out and cause trouble for the Germans.
"Sir, request permission to speak!" Lieutenant Speirs's expression was serious when he saw Captain Parks. In D Company, he rarely spoke to his superior like this, but in Easy Company, he had a strong desire for combat, even an urgent need to prove himself, so that the gap between himself and Captain Parks wouldn't be too large.
"Speak, Lieutenant Speirs!" Captain Parks nodded. He was looking at the map while talking to Lieutenant Welsh, a posture that made Speirs a little uncomfortable. Clearly, Captain Parks was not taking his impending opinion to heart.
"The Third Platoon requests tonight's patrol mission," Lieutenant Speirs said. "I believe this type of mission should be rotated so that the men can get better rest!"
Captain Parks frowned slightly. Although he had a very good impression of Speirs, it didn't mean he could tolerate him speaking to him with such an attitude. Clearly, he had overstepped his bounds.
"The mission has already been decided, there's no room for change. Do you have anything else to add?" Captain Parks's words were very blunt, making Lieutenant Speirs feel a bit uncertain about where the line was. He hadn't been with Easy Company for long, and he didn't know Captain Parks's temper very well. But from what he had observed, Captain Parks was always very kind to the men and cared about them, so this situation made Speirs a bit unsure. Although he had a strong killing intent, in front of Captain Parks, he simply had no right to challenge him.
"I'm sorry, sir!" Lieutenant Speirs replied helplessly. He truly couldn't come up with any reason for Captain Parks to assign his platoon to the mission. So, he eventually left, feeling very frustrated.
"Were you too harsh on him?" Lieutenant Welsh watched Speirs leave discontentedly and couldn't help but smile slightly at Captain Parks, saying, "I rarely see you like this with people. It's not like you!"
Captain Parks shook his head and smiled at Lieutenant Welsh, saying, "He's too impulsive, still like he was in D Company. That won't do. Have you seen him charge? I have. When we were in Netherlands, we attacked two German companies on the dike. He led that platoon from D Company, charging recklessly at the very front of the line, which resulted in several men being hit. Harry, what we need to do now isn't to pursue victory, but how to preserve the lives of our men. That's more important than anything!"
"Right, you've said that many times!" Lieutenant Welsh raised his hands and laughed, "How many times have I heard that? The lives of the men are the most important." Lieutenant Welsh smiled, then looked at Captain Parks seriously and said, "Reese—"
"What?" Captain Parks looked at Lieutenant Welsh's serious expression and couldn't help but be stunned.
"It's their luck that the men have a Captain like you!" Lieutenant Welsh pursed his lips and said, "Of course, a First Lieutenant like me meeting a Captain like you, I'm afraid my promotion will be much faster too!"
Captain Parks smiled, but didn't reply, simply shifting his gaze to the map. It was a temporary attack and defense map drawn by the regimental command. On the map, their own defensive line was clearly marked, but the German defensive line was very vague. This was a consequence of lacking aerial reconnaissance. Unclear enemy intelligence easily led to being on the defensive.
"What method do you think we can use to infiltrate the German lines?" Captain Parks frowned, staring at the map. Clearly, he couldn't think of a good solution for a while!
"You've got me stumped!" Lieutenant Welsh walked to the map, looked at it, and said, "I've been thinking about it for a long time too. The Germans have more men than us, and their sentry posts are denser than ours. It's really not easy to infiltrate, unless we force a breach, but we clearly don't have enough men to pose a threat to them."
"Yes!" Captain Parks shook his head, constantly rejecting one idea after another.
Regardless of whether he could come up with a way to infiltrate, Captain Parks had to achieve a successful patrol. Otherwise, future patrols would be terrible, either accomplishing nothing or ending up like Speirs, potentially burying the men on the German lines.
"Sir!" Just then, someone called from outside the dugout, "Captain Parks!"
"What is it?" Captain Parks turned to look, and seeing it was Sergeant Martin, he was a little surprised. He said to Lieutenant Welsh, "I'll go out and see, you keep studying!" With that, he climbed out of the dugout. Sergeant Martin was rubbing his hands, waiting outside. Seeing Captain Parks emerge, he quickly stood at attention and saluted him.
"At ease!" Captain Parks said, "What is it, Sergeant!"
Sergeant Martin nodded and said, "It's like this, we all know the First Platoon is going on a patrol mission today, but we've all been worried about Heffron. His emotions are unstable, so—"
"Then he stays behind!" Captain Parks nodded. "Is that all?"
"Yes!" Martin nodded.
Things went smoothly, and Heffron was excluded from this mission. Martin also breathed a sigh of relief, because emotional instability was the biggest taboo when going on a mission, as it could put oneself or one's men in danger.
The men of Easy Company stayed inside the dugouts, occasionally coming out to walk in the snow, and they were always careful when they came out, to prevent sudden German shelling. Their artillery had never been so dense; according to Guarnere, the Germans had moved their armory in front of Easy Company's lines.
The men of the First Platoon still gathered around Pastor Maloney, reciting prayers. Then they all began to prepare their equipment. Captain Parks required them to bring bayonets, grenades, and explosives! Christenson and Gordon were in charge of the machine guns.
At one o'clock in the morning, the team began to assemble in front of the company command post. Heliger led the men of the First Platoon into two columns, awaiting Captain Parks's instructions on the mission and its objective!
Just then, a figure walked towards them. He said to Captain Parks, "Sir, I request to participate in this patrol mission!"
"Heffron?" Captain Parks looked at him. "Are you sure? Do you feel good?"
"Yes, sir, I'm sure!" Heffron stood ramrod straight. "I'm sure I'm perfectly fine. I don't have any emotional problems. Everyone kept it from me. If I don't participate in this mission, it's not fair to me!"
Captain Parks smiled slightly, then nodded and said, "Then return to formation!"
The patrol team set off, moving in a tactical column through the snowy forest.
All around them were broken branches and bare tree trunks, shattered by German artillery shells.
The group remained silent, with Parks in the middle of the formation, and Sergeant Martin and Lieutenant Halliger at the very front.
Everyone was tense, alert to any situation that might arise at any moment, paying close attention to every place that made an unusual sound.
The further they went, the more this caution was evident on everyone.
Flares continuously rose into the night, and occasionally, the sound of machine gun fire from the German side, or the explosion of one or two shells, echoed, appearing relatively sparse in such a night sky.
"What are they shooting at?" Malarkey whispered to Luz, "Did they find us?"
"No, they didn't see anything!" Luz chuckled softly, "They're just using that to boost their courage.
Honestly, the Germans are more afraid than we are.
Captain Parks said so!"
"I wish I could use that to boost my courage too!" Malarkey shrugged, "Even so, we're short on ammunition and shells; God knows how long we can endure in this situation!"
"Don't ask me that!" Luz shook his head, "Why don't you go ask Captain Parks?"
Malarkey, of course, wouldn't ask Captain Parks; he stopped talking and just followed the team silently.
Many others harbored different thoughts; they weren't tired of this patrol, and some even looked forward to it, hoping Captain Parks could bring about some change for them.
Rather than moldering away in a bunker, it was better to take a gamble with Captain Parks, especially since every mission with Captain Parks brought exhilarating victories.
The German foxholes were not like those of Easy Company; they were just traditional foxholes, nothing special, and they weren't dug very deep.
This was because they believed the Americans would never risk a surprise attack on them.
After all, compared to the current strength of both sides, the German had a huge advantage, and they had always maintained pressure on Easy Company.
The German had deployed two companies on the defensive line.
They also maintained an advantage over Easy Company on the defensive line.
Although it was difficult for them to infiltrate the defensive line formed by Parks Bunker for Easy Company, their numerical superiority also prevented Easy Company's patrol from infiltrating their own defensive line.
"Our patrol should be back soon!" A German, hiding in a foxhole, said to his comrade, "I hate these endless patrol missions.
We can't infiltrate the Americans' line, and the Americans can't infiltrate ours, so why are we still in this standoff?
I just want to go home.
I haven't seen my mother in so long; I've been away from Germany for almost a year!"
"Don't complain, Ederson, I haven't been back home for two years already." That German shook his head, "Honestly, I'm starting to doubt if we're winning this war.
I heard a lot of people died on the Eastern Front; the Russians are pushing towards us, and we're fighting on two fronts with limited energy.
If we can't stop the Americans and the British, then we'll just have to be occupied by them!"
"Like we occupied France? Folkerdt." Ederson looked at that German, "Those were wonderful times; we drank endless fine wine in Paris, and there were the women of Paris, beautiful and free, and of course, all for free; we were the occupiers."
Ederson said with a slight smile on his lips, as if reminiscing about the good old days.
That German named Folkerdt looked at Ederson, couldn't help but shake his head, and said somewhat dejectedly: "Don't dream, Ederson; we still have to face the Americans now.
If we can't stop them, then next time, drinking our fine wine and sleeping with our women in Berlin will be the Americans, the British, the French, and those damned inferior Russians.
Think about it, it's truly disgusting!"
Ederson fell silent; he knew this was highly possible.
The scale of this Western Front offensive was huge, as could be seen from the expressions of their commanders; their faces were serious, and they showed immense courage, like a gambler who had placed all his bets, anticipating the greatest gains but also panicking about losing everything.
At this moment, the occasional sound of machine gun fire from the defensive line somewhat enlivened the two silent men.
Although the German were currently advancing relentlessly, they encountered resistance in Bastogne, and they had already committed too many troops trying to open this passage, but it was like a nail embedded in wood, stuck firmly and impossible to remove.
And with this as their salient, they had surrounded the Americans, yet even under their complete encirclement, the Americans still did not retreat; they continued to block the German advance.
"Ederson, if we don't make it back this time, remember to help me deliver this letter to my wife!" Folkerdt pulled a letter from his chest, then opened it and looked at it again, "Remember, it's in my left pocket inside my jacket!
I've been out for two years; the child should be 4 years old.
I want to go back and see my little angel!" Folkerdt's eyes showed great fondness.
"Alright, I hope you'll do the same for me!" Ederson smiled.
"Help you give the letter to your wife?"
"No, give my pocket watch to my wife!" Ederson pulled out a gold-plated pocket watch from his chest; he raised his hand, dangling the watch in the air, "This was a wedding gift from my wife.
She's truly a beautiful girl.
Honestly, if it weren't for the conscription order, I probably wouldn't be here; I'd be with my wife!"
"It's a deal!" Folkerdt nodded, and then the two of them curled up in the foxhole.
Snowflakes began to fall again, accumulating slowly on their bodies, making them look like two corpses frozen in the blizzard, unmoving and lifeless.
They didn't want to move; they were simply immersed in their own memories.
The German were fortunate, compared to Easy Company.
They could bombard when they wanted, launch attacks when they wanted, and they had thick military coats to help them resist the severe cold, as well as abundant food supplies to eat their fill.
The Americans, however, had nothing.
Their shells ran out in the first few days, and now there was no threat whatsoever.
They lacked clothing, food, and medical supplies.
With Christmas fast approaching, they would spend a Christmas in cold and despair.
The German officers all shared this view.
Whenever they saw the deathly silence on the American defensive line, they would maliciously guess if the Americans had all frozen or starved to death.
Major Trueshiel was such an optimistic person; he sent two companies from Battalion HQ to the defensive line, leaving one company as a reserve.
As the battalion commander, he knew that the Americans opposite had a very formidable bunker that made it impossible for them to advance, but the Americans clearly had no ability to attack them either.
Moreover, their manpower and supplies were far inferior to his own.
He could sit in Battalion HQ and have dinner with the company commanders, followed by dessert and mulled wine.
His Battalion HQ was built like a permanent command post, not at all like a temporary one; inside, they could have a fire, barbecue, and even play poker with a few officers, because they never worried that the Americans would suddenly launch a counterattack against them.
The battalion headquarters had urged them several times to launch an attack on the American forces on the opposite defensive line, but Major Trueshiel did not obey the order.
He merely kept sending out patrol teams, but as for a large-scale attack, he dared not undertake it.
He greatly despised the regimental commander who gave the order, because a previous regimental attack had been defeated by the Americans, losing almost all of its heavy armor and suffering severe soldier casualties, and it was almost impossible for his single battalion to complete this mission.
"How are the soldiers?" Trueshiel sat at the dinner table, facing three company commanders; they were having a small dinner party here, and the orderlies served them the most delicious veal and the finest French wine, all high-quality French goods, "I mean the soldiers on the defensive line!" he said, gently wiping his lips with a napkin, his movements elegant, as if he were a nobleman.
In fact, before joining the army, he was just a farmer, but having been in the military for a long time, he always liked to imitate the demeanor of important figures, to make himself appear more cultured and noble.
"Very good!" A Captain company commander opposite him nodded, "The soldiers' morale is high.
They are warmly dressed, well-fed, and have wine to ward off the cold; this is something the Americans cannot compare to."
"Can they infiltrate our defensive line?" Trueshiel continued to ask; he liked to talk with officers at the dinner table, much like generals holding a dinner table conference.
"I guarantee, absolutely not!" Another officer sitting opposite replied, "We once infiltrated their defensive line; they were short on manpower, only relying on that strange bunker to defend against us.
Although we cannot infiltrate them, they absolutely cannot infiltrate our defensive line, and they absolutely have no ability to launch an attack on us!"
"Excellent!" Trueshiel nodded and smiled, "Gentlemen, our main objective is to hold this defensive line.
Now we have achieved it, and the Americans have achieved it too.
It's best if we live in peace! Unless there is an order commanding us to attack the Americans.
Even then, I will first consider the interests of the soldiers and officers."
"But the regimental commander has already given the order to attack!" A company commander asked hesitantly.
"Don't mind that; do you really want to fight?" Trueshiel couldn't help but shake his head, "A defensive line that a whole regiment couldn't take, can we take it?"
He chuckled, then nodded to himself, "However, we also have to put on a show.
Tomorrow, let's set it for tomorrow, how about your company launches a probing attack on the Americans, Captain Redet?" He sneered at the company commander who had just spoken.
"This--" The company commander named Rede couldn't help but blush; it was clearly an impossible task, as the American forces opposite hadn't been conquered by even a whole regiment.
He stammered, "Sir--the American forces opposite are said to be that Parks.
I think a company's strength might be a bit too little!"
"Where did you hear that the one opposite is that Parks?" Trueshiel said with some displeasure.
"The prisoners we captured on the first day of engagement with them said that Parks' company was also deployed here, and that bunker is also called Parks Bunker!" Rede's face was a bit unnatural, "At least we have to send out two companies; even if it's a probing attack, we can't be careless!"
The name Parks was already very famous among the German.
From the battle of Arnhem to the sniping of the general, the German learned about this man, Parks, through prisoners.
This man brought both shame and awe to the German.
"Alright, alright, I'll consider it again!" Major Trueshiel nodded with some displeasure.
To ease the atmosphere, he raised his glass and said to the three of them: "No matter what..."
Before he could finish his sentence, sudden intense gunfire erupted outside, and someone was shouting: "Americans! The Americans have infiltrated!"
The Americans have infiltrated.
The door to the Battalion HQ was suddenly pushed open, and a German Sergeant rushed in, yelling frantically at Major Trueshiel, "Sir, we've been infiltrated by the Americans! They're attacking us!"
"Damn it!" Major Trueshiel cursed, then said to the Sergeant with dissatisfaction and severity, "How many Americans are there? How far have they infiltrated our lines? How far are they from the Battalion HQ?"
"I don't know!" The German Sergeant was momentarily stunned, then realized his gaffe. He quickly stood at attention, saluted Major Trueshiel, and then composed himself, saying, "We're under attack from the Americans, not just at one point; almost every part of our defensive line is being attacked by them. They seem to be everywhere. Sir, I can't determine their exact numbers, but I can estimate, no less than a company!"
"A company?" Major Trueshiel involuntarily stood up abruptly. The other three Captains also stood up, all staring at Major Trueshiel, awaiting his orders.
"This is impossible, the Americans don't have the capability to attack us!" He almost roared. The American attack ruined his good mood, and he believed something impossible was happening. "Did they receive reinforcements? No, that's absolutely impossible! Connect me to battalion headquarters, I need to talk to battalion headquarters. How much strength do the Americans really have to attack our defensive line?"
"Sir, what should we do now?" The Sergeant stammered, looking at Major Trueshiel.
"Damn it, you all return to your respective companies, organize a counterattack immediately. No matter how many Americans come, you must hold them outside the defensive line. If they break through our line, God will not forgive us!" Major Trueshiel roared at the three Captains. "Go, go, don't stay here, this is not where you belong!"
"Yes, sir!" The Sergeant and the three Captains quickly straightened their uniforms, then hurried out of the Battalion HQ. They had to return to their defensive lines immediately. If the American forces broke through their defensive positions, Major Trueshiel would certainly not let them off.
The gunfire outside grew more intense, interspersed with the distinct sounds of American machine guns and their own MG42 machine guns, and the occasional explosions of grenades and mortar shells.
"What the hell do these damned Americans want to do?" By this time, the communications officer at the headquarters had connected him to battalion headquarters, but battalion headquarters knew nothing. They didn't even know if the American forces had reinforcements, nor did they know the current American deployment. In short, they were completely clueless, which made him increasingly annoyed.
"Lieutenant Lakeer!" Major Trueshiel walked out of the Battalion HQ, stood in the snow, and shouted. That was the staff officer of the Battalion HQ, who was jogging towards Major Trueshiel.
"Sir!" Lieutenant Lakeer saluted him.
"Tell the two companies on the defensive line to hold their positions and not to attack rashly. We still have a reserve company, the Americans won't easily break through." Major Trueshiel ordered loudly. Seeing Lieutenant Lakeer about to leave, he felt uneasy and quickly called him back, "Wait, tell all companies that if they discover the main direction of the attacking force, they can support each other!"
Lieutenant Lakeer quickly departed towards the defensive line. After a series of orders had been given, he finally felt a little relieved. However, there were always some unsettling factors lingering in his mind. He knew Captain Rede was right; opposite their defensive line was a company led by a Captain named Parks, and it was this Parks who had repeatedly caused significant losses to the German forces, almost causing the German forces to fail completely in the Allied Operation Market Garden. Moreover, in the trench warfare in Netherlands, there was also a battle where he led a platoon to rout an SS battalion.
"No, no, I must go to the defensive line myself to see!" Major Trueshiel was ultimately uneasy. The opponent's reputation was too great, forcing him to be cautious. If the defensive line were to be breached by him, then the American forces might use this as a gap to receive a large amount of aid from the rear, which the German forces were unwilling to see.
Captain Redet cursed all the way. The American surprise attack was unexpected, but Major Trueshiel's impolite and clearly retaliatory words at the dinner table made him dissatisfied. He felt slighted by the Major, which made him very uncomfortable. He walked quickly and soon reached his defensive line. Along the way, he could see bullets flying through the air with bright white light.
"How are our men doing?" His first words were a roar directed at the deputy company commander on the defensive line.
"I don't know, we can't contact anyone else, but our firepower is fierce, the Americans haven't attacked yet!" The deputy company commander said confidently to Captain Redet, "They're just bluffing. Or maybe they're suppressed by our firepower; so far, I haven't seen a single American rush to our front!"
"Be careful!" Captain Redet nodded to the deputy company commander and said, "Tell the men to increase their firepower. Don't be stingy with ammunition, we have plenty of it. The key is that we must hold the defensive line!"
"Understood, Captain!" The deputy company commander faithfully carried out the order. The firepower here immediately increased by a level. Various weapons and artillery fiercely opened fire towards the front, and the explosions illuminated the forest ahead in crimson.
"Come on, Parks!" Captain Redet looked at the fierce explosions ahead, and a smile involuntarily appeared at the corner of his mouth. In front of such a barrage of fire, trying to break through the defensive line was like dreaming in broad daylight.
On another defensive line, the German firepower did not seem very fierce. They stared intently ahead. A platoon leader said to the company commander—a lean man named Captain Pulis—"Sir, the engagement on Captain Redet's side is more intense. It seems the Americans have made that their main attack point. Should we go support them?"
"No, no, we'll hold our own defensive line!" Captain Pulis looked at the engagement on Captain Redet's side and shook his head, saying, "Captain Redet and his men have fierce firepower; the Americans will be suppressed by them."
The gunfire here was indeed not intense, with only occasional machine gun bursts, but they were quickly met with return fire from the MG42, and the MG42 was fully capable of suppressing American firepower in terms of performance.
Gradually, the gunfire dwindled. Occasionally, an explosion could be heard. It seemed the battle on Captain Redet's side had ended, and there was no request for aid from this side, so the Americans must have been repelled.
"The Americans should have retreated, I hope they don't come again!" Captain Pulis looked at the front of the defensive line and muttered.
But no sooner had he finished speaking than a volley of bullets suddenly shot over, narrowly missing him. His deputy company commander, however, was not so lucky; the bullets that Captain Pulis dodged struck the deputy company commander's head, and instantly a spray of blood mist exploded in front of him, splattering all over his face.
"Americans!" Captain Pulis shouted, then quickly lay down in the snow, rolling and crawling into a nearby foxhole. "The Americans are here! Fire, fire!"
Immediately, along the entire company's defensive line, various weapons began to fire towards the front, with an intensity no less than that of Captain Redet's company's defensive line.
The American counterattack was unexpectedly fierce; they had concentrated almost all their firepower here.
"Damn it, how did the Americans get over here?" Were they hiding their firepower until now? How many of them are there? Captain Pulis quickly pondered this question, even considering whether to request support from Captain Redet's side.
Flares continuously rose, and they could vaguely see the silhouettes of American soldiers running back and forth in the forest. Moreover, their marksmanship was accurate; every time a flare went up, one of their own men would be hit, then scream for help. And such screams were most effective at destroying people's will to resist.
"Request support, request support from Captain Redet!" Captain Pulis finally couldn't bear it anymore. The screams of the German soldiers after being hit, and the fear of his deputy company commander's blood splattering on his face just now, finally made him start calling for help from Rede.
When Major Trueshiel arrived at the defensive line, the fighting on Redet's side had already ceased, while the fighting on Captain Pulis's side had begun and was equally fierce. And the soldiers sent by Captain Pulis for help had also arrived.
"Damn it, where exactly are the Americans attacking?" Major Trueshiel said angrily to Rede, "Go, go, help Captain Pulis, you must eliminate the American forces there. I can order you to attack at the appropriate time, we must defeat them! Parks? I'm going to make him suffer a defeat! Let him know my strength!"
But when Captain Redet led two platoons to Captain Pulis's defensive line, the American forces suddenly stopped firing. It was as if they had never been there. Flares continuously flashed in the sky, and by their light, not a single American figure could be seen in the vast forest.
"Damn it, where are the Americans?" Captain Pulis cursed fiercely. The previous engagement seemed to have never happened; the Americans had simply vanished into thin air.
Where are the Americans? Major Trueshiel also wondered. Redet's two platoons arrived at the defensive line, but had nothing to do. However, they dared not withdraw easily, fearing that the Americans would launch a larger attack! The battlefield in the dead of night presented a strange phenomenon, leaving the German forces bewildered. They had only one question in their minds:
Where are the Americans?
This question troubled the Germans, as they had never experienced such a strange war.
Two armies facing each other, charging, confronting, breaking through, encircling—none of these applied to the current situation.
When the attack was fierce, support arrived, but then they vanished without a trace; calm did not mean nothing would happen.
Hubler ran breathlessly, having already run back and forth twice tonight.
The other brothers in First Platoon were the same.
They moved back and forth across the German's two company defensive positions, trudging through thick snow.
This was not easy, but the brothers of Easy Company could do it.
The veterans trained at Taccoa Barracks, under Parks's training, had much better physical endurance than ordinary soldiers, and they were best suited for such long-distance running.
"What exactly are we doing?" Hubler's voice was soft, but he couldn't help but feel a little confused.
Running back and forth like this not only kept him on the move but also made the Germans run back and forth with them.
However, they hadn't eliminated any Germans at all.
It was as if they were here to test the results of their physical training in front of the Germans.
"Don't worry about it, Hubler, you have to keep up with us; the Captain naturally has his own ideas."
White was next to Hubler, and although he was also out of breath, he couldn't help but warn Hubler, "The Captain always surprises people; I wonder what kind of surprise he'll give us this time."
"I don't know, but there definitely will be!" Hubler grinned, trying to smile, but due to the excessive physical exertion, he could barely move the muscles in his face to show a smiling expression!
Every brother in Easy Company's First Platoon was asking one question: What exactly are we doing?
But despite their doubts, Captain Parks was leading them, so they kept all their questions to themselves.
Because they knew that ultimately, Parks would lead them to victory; this was almost a superstition among the Easy Company brothers, especially those in First Platoon.
"The German defensive line is ahead!" Captain Parks suddenly stopped.
He gestured to Lieutenant Halliger and several squad leaders, and then, waiting for them to arrive, he immediately whispered the mission assignment, "A portion of the Germans on this defensive line has already been drawn to another line by us.
What we need to do now is to break through this German defensive line before the German's can reinforce."
Is it finally time to really fight?
All the non-commissioned officers were muttering to themselves.
Parks nodded to them and said, "Our squads will advance abreast.
Whoever makes contact with the Germans first will hold them, making them believe we are launching our main attack in their direction."
He looked at the non-commissioned officers and said, "We don't need to fight head-on; take care of our brothers, and don't get injured!"
The non-commissioned officers nodded, then looked at Parks again; they knew he still had tasks to assign.
Parks was very satisfied with the non-commissioned officers' attitude; at least they still had fighting spirit.
"The rest of the squads will follow me, bypass the flank of the engagement, and we will attack the Germans from behind.
Speed must be fast; we must eliminate the remaining platoon-strength force on the defensive line before the Germans reinforce, and then we will regroup and await my next order!"
Parks looked at the non-commissioned officers and said, "Understood?"
"Understood!" The non-commissioned officers all nodded.
"Lieutenant Halliger, no matter which squad engages the Germans first, you are responsible for commanding them!" Parks patted Halliger's shoulder and said, "Alright, let's get ready to start!"
All the non-commissioned officers immediately returned to their squads and began gesturing to their brothers, indicating for them to advance towards the German defensive line.
A group of people moved through the snow, treading on the accumulation, advancing towards the German defensive line.
They were very careful and cautious.
They were discovered when they were less than fifty meters from the Germans.
"Americans!" Immediately, piercing shouts from the Germans came from the defensive line, followed by the tearing roar of machine guns.
They had discovered a group of American soldiers attempting to approach their defensive line.
The MG42 sprayed bullets like water in front of them.
"Take cover, take cover!" At this moment, the shouts of the non-commissioned officers came, "Christenson, machine gun cover, hurry, the Germans are pinning us down.
Suppressive fire, suppressive fire!"
The brothers quickly lay prone behind piles of cut wood; they dared not poke their heads out, only raising their rifles high over the woodpiles, blindly firing towards the German defensive line.
They did not spare their bullets, emptying an entire magazine in one go.
But such continuous firing created a momentum comparable to that of a whole platoon.
"It's Landeman; they've engaged the Germans!" Sergeant Martin whispered to Parks.
"Excellent, Lieutenant Halliger, go and take command immediately; you must pin down the German firepower!" Parks waved to Halliger, ordering, "The rest of the brothers follow me; we will bypass the vacated German defensive line.
We must be fast; the Germans will surely rush back at top speed once they hear the gunfire here."
Major Trueshiel did indeed hear the gunfire; although it wasn't very intense, it indicated that there were quite a few American soldiers.
And that direction was precisely the defensive line of Captain Redet's company, which had just sent reinforcements to Captain Pulis's side.
"Damn it, the Americans are going to break through from Redet's side!" Major Trueshiel's face was ashen, but he was still a little worried about this defensive line, after all, the American offensive here had sounded more intense than over there.
"How many Americans are involved in the attack?" Major Trueshiel's question was clearly unanswerable by the officers present.
"Captain Redet, quickly take your men back to your defensive line; don't let the Americans exploit your weakness!
Hurry, hurry!"
"Yes, sir!" Captain Redet also felt extremely anxious.
His current defensive line had only one platoon, and they were too concentrated.
When he came to reinforce this side, he didn't adjust the defensive line in time, and even if he wanted to adjust, it would be too late.
Moreover, even if it were adjusted, one platoon defending a company's defensive line was clearly not as good as being concentrated.
Now the Americans had once again chosen that spot to attack, how could he not be burning with anxiety?
"Wait!" As Captain Redet was about to leave with his men, Major Trueshiel called out to him, "Only take one platoon; leave the remaining platoon here.
I know the Americans only want to weaken our strength on this side; they are playing tricks, waiting for you to return before launching a large-scale attack on this defensive line.
Go quickly, Captain Redet, thwart the Americans' plot; don't let them succeed!"
"Understood, Major!" Captain Redet was quite convinced by Major Trueshiel's judgment; after all, what he said made some sense.
If it was just an American harassment, then a platoon's reinforcement was already sufficient.
Major Trueshiel's judgment was based on his common sense acquired during his training at the German temporary officer school, and his judgment was absolutely correct.
When the enemy's situation was unclear, he had to have a clear and targeted defensive position, and he chose Captain Pulis's defensive line.
Although the distance between the two defensive lines was not very far, and they were connected, there still had to be a main attack direction.
As the Germans made their decision, Captain Parks had already led the remaining brothers around the vacated defensive line and began attacking the Germans holding the remaining defensive line from behind.
"Grenades!" He ordered in a low voice, "First round, we use grenades to attack!
Then charge, eliminate all the Germans.
We don't take prisoners; remember, no prisoners!
We don't have time!" Saying this, he himself pulled out a grenade, then wiped his chin with his finger, as if he had made some kind of decision, nodded to the brothers, and was the first to charge towards the German position.
They had to throw the grenades before the Germans discovered them.
"Throw!" Parks gave the order, swinging his arm forward and throwing his grenade.
Then, a dense shower of dark grenades were continuously tossed into the air.
They fell like rain onto the German defensive line, some directly into the German foxholes.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!" The continuous explosions instantly stunned the Germans who were engaging the Americans.
The firing of machine guns and various weapons immediately paused.
Seizing this moment, Parks charged forward first, raising his rifle, firing at almost any living target he saw.
The brothers surged forward, all kinds of weapons firing desperately.
At this moment, Landeman's side also heard the gunfire, and the German firepower immediately stopped, knowing that Captain Parks had succeeded.
Halliger immediately ordered them to rush towards Parks's position.
Under the pincer attack, a German platoon was surprisingly powerless to resist.
Bullets splattered blood on the German bodies, and they screamed, constantly falling to the ground.
Some couldn't even climb out of their foxholes before being killed.
Others couldn't run far, and under the pincer attack, they were constantly hit and fell to the ground!
"Go to hell! Germans, let you eat well, drink well, dress well, and then go to hell!" White cursed as he fired.
Clearly, during this period, the brothers had been so suppressed by the Germans that they were on the verge of collapse; this was the best way to vent.
"Bang bang bang bang!" A series of shots, even when all the brothers had stopped firing, someone was still shooting at the dead Germans.
Parks frowned, and Landers beside him said, "It's Heffron!"
"Go talk to him!" Parks said to Landers.
He fully understood Heffron's feelings, but if he didn't let him vent, he might do something foolish!
"Captain Parks! The Germans are reinforcing!" Sergeant Martin suddenly ran over to Parks and said, "They'll be here very soon!
What do we do?" Saying this, he looked eagerly at Parks.
"Since they've come, don't let them go!" Parks smiled slightly.
Captain Redet was in a hurry; he had to fill his defensive line to prevent the American forces from taking advantage.
Just now, he had heard another burst of intense gunfire, and from the sound, it was definitely not from German-made weapons, but rather the distinctive M1 rifle, American-made machine guns, and submachine guns of the American forces.
A series of explosions and dense firing filled him with a bad feeling.
"Hurry, damn it, we have to rescue our brothers!" Captain Redet was somewhat exasperated.
He could no longer hear the sound of gunfire ahead; everything seemed to have disappeared.
His ominous feeling filled his entire chest.
Parks, that name once again lingered in his mind.
He ran unsteadily through the snow, his chest feeling as if it would explode.
He was out of breath; he just wanted to reach his defensive line as quickly as possible to rescue the brothers in his platoon.
Although running through the snow was the most physically demanding, he could no longer care.
He continuously shouted orders to every soldier along the way, urging them to speed up.
But he was merely prey, helpless prey struggling through the snow.
Besides trees, there were more eyes in the snow, watching their prey.
And those who held their prey firmly were leopards, as if they could tear their throats with the sharpest teeth at any moment and then swallow them whole.
The silence ahead was worrying; a whole platoon of brothers had likely met with misfortune.
Captain Redet held a rifle in his hand, running alone at the front.
"Closer, closer!" Parks' eyes were fixed on the German soldier running at the very front.
"Listen to my command!" He gestured, carefully adjusting his aim.
The German soldier in front of him, he could tell, was either an officer or a non-commissioned officer; only such a person would display such anxiousness and rush forward so recklessly.
Parks narrowed his eyes, then quietly waited for him to run past his side.
Then his rifle let out a crisp "bang" sound.
In the darkness, the muzzle flash was so dazzling, the bullet ejected, tumbling in the air, seemingly still making a "whirring" spinning sound, then gently and silently falling onto the snow.
With a soft "thud" as the gun fired, Captain Redet's neck suddenly tightened.
He felt something tear his neck, and then something sprayed out.
Some of it even splashed into his mouth, salty, warm, and viscous—that was his blood, his last thought.
Captain Redet's legs gave way, and his entire body, carried by the momentum of his run, lunged forward.
His hands were extended in front, both hands released, and his rifle was thrown into the air, like a bird fluttering to the ground.
With a "thud," he fell onto the snow.
He collapsed, his face feeling the coldness of the snow, and his body trembled, as cold as the snow, as if to merge with it.
Captain Redet's death did not stop the German forces; their executive officer took over command.
But then, as they passed by the woods beside the path, gunfire flashed like countless stars in the sky.
Bullets rained down on the German troops.
The muffled sounds of bullets hitting bodies and the screams of agony were so clear and heart-stopping in the night.
Parks ambushed the German forces on their inevitable path and succeeded.
The entire German platoon in the ambush zone offered no resistance, like a flock of ducks waiting to be slaughtered.
The battle went very smoothly, leaving no survivors; even German soldiers who knelt on the ground with their hands raised in surrender did not escape the call of death.
It wasn't that the German forces lacked combat power or high training quality, but under such an ambush, any unit could be completely wiped out with no ability to retaliate.
"Clear the battlefield!" Parks issued the command decisively, then he shouted loudly, "Sergeant Guarnere, take your men to set up a forward outpost.
We need to constantly monitor the German movements! Sergeant Martin, Staff Sergeant Landermann, take your men and quickly get ready.
German reinforcements are likely to arrive soon; we need to be prepared for both possibilities."
Parks' dual preparations were actually quite simple: if the German reinforcements were coming from another company's defensive line, then they had to retreat immediately, back to their own defensive line, as the German forces still had a reserve company.
But if the German forces were bringing up their reserve company, then he would use the time it took for the German reserve company to advance to infiltrate the German lines, causing extensive damage within the German ranks, preferably destroying all their supplies.
Guarnere's forward scouts quickly sent back news: the German forces were not coming from another defensive line, but from the German rear.
They were approximately a company-sized unit.
This was good news!
Parks' lips curved into a slight smile when he heard this news.
Clearly, the German forces had made another misjudgment.
After intense exchanges of fire, there was no further news from the two platoons of soldiers.
The liaison officer dispatched by Major Trueshiel saw bodies strewn all over the ground on his way, all of them German.
He also saw the body of Captain Redet, who had run to the very front; he was sprawled in the snow, and when he was turned over, his eyes were wide open, as if unwilling to accept his fate.
"Two platoons are gone!" When Major Trueshiel received this news, his mood suddenly plummeted.
Clearly, he felt sorrow and self-reproach for his mistake.
Damn Americans, they had deceived him, not daring to openly attack his defensive line; they were a bunch of cowards who liked to play petty tricks.
"Should we immediately send people to reinforce them?" Captain Pulis looked cautiously at Major Trueshiel; he felt somewhat uneasy, after all, Captain Redet's reinforcements had been called by him, and now that this had happened, he might become the target of Major Trueshiel's anger.
But clearly, he was mistaken; Major Trueshiel said nothing to him.
"No, no, we cannot use the troops here anymore." Major Trueshiel frowned in thought, saying, "Lieutenant Lakeer, immediately notify the reserve company to move up to the defensive line.
Have them fill Captain Redet's defensive line.
If it's occupied by the American forces, immediately use artillery fire to indiscriminately cover the defensive line.
Tell Company Commander Gagori that it is imperative to occupy the defensive line, otherwise, all our efforts will be in vain."
Major Trueshiel showed his decisiveness; after all, in such an unclear enemy situation, the most important thing to do was to hold his defensive line and then do nothing else.
Holding the defensive line was victory, and dawn was approaching, which would make the situation more favorable to them.
It seemed he had overcome his initial state of confusion, and his thoughts were gradually becoming clearer.
But Parks could not give him this opportunity.
The German reserve company quickly moved up.
They scouted the defensive line ahead and realized that their own men were no longer there, so they immediately contacted their rear for artillery support.
German artillery, with an ear-piercing roar, flew densely through the air, and then their defensive line was engulfed in flames.
The German forces implemented dense artillery coverage on the entire company's defensive line, attempting to wipe out the American forces occupying it in one fell swoop.
Just as the German artillery covered the entire defensive line, Parks led the First Platoon of brothers rapidly towards the German rear.
They bypassed the advancing German company and easily dealt with the German outposts and the very few remaining troops at the rear, less than a squad of German guards.
Then they found the German supplies: countless bottles of good wine, German military rations, and thick blankets and greatcoats for warmth.
These made the brothers' eyes redden with desire.
"Guarnere, hold this place.
Let the brothers carry as much as they can.
What we can't carry, we'll blow up.
Don't feel sorry; we don't need to leave them for the Germans anymore.
Their good days are over!" Parks chuckled.
"Of course, sir!" Guarnere chuckled, "I'm best at this!
Right, Toy?"
Toy laughed behind him, "Of course, Guarnere, you're a born destroyer.
I need to stay far away from you!" His words had just fallen, immediately causing a burst of laughter among the brothers.
Parks shook his head, smiling slightly, and said loudly, "Folks, we have one last job.
We're going to destroy all the German artillery.
They're firing now, and their positions have been exposed.
Guys, get in the trucks.
There are trucks here.
Let's ride in German trucks to destroy their big guns.
If we succeed, our future days will be incredibly comfortable!"
"Alright, Boss, I can't wait!" At this moment, Cobb, who had been silent, suddenly shouted.
"Oh, Cobb, have you finally come to your senses?" Luz, not far from Cobb, couldn't help but burst into laughter, which again drew a round of laughter from the brothers.
But Captain Parks was right; if the German artillery was dealt with, then the biggest threat to Easy Company and the German weapon most capable of demoralizing them would be taken care of.
When they would redeploy again was unknown.
At the very least, Easy Company would have some good days ahead.
Two trucks carrying the soldiers of Easy Company drove towards the German artillery positions, and the German artillerymen had no idea that the American forces could penetrate so deeply and even ride in their vehicles towards them.
So when the American soldiers appeared before them, the unprepared German artillerymen were unarmed, and only slaughter awaited them.
Parks' orders were ruthless: no prisoners.
But the brothers of Easy Company understood; at this moment, they were like a group of men with bloodshot eyes.
Tonight, this group had killed an unknown number of Germans, so they didn't care about these unarmed German artillerymen.
They had no troop cover because the troops had all moved up to the defensive line.
"Explosives, use explosives to destroy every cannon, and Webster, set explosives in their bomb piles.
We leave in five minutes, and the bombs explode in ten minutes!" Parks' rapid-fire commands kept the brothers working in an orderly fashion.
Explosions followed one after another; the German cannons were destroyed, and Webster's timed bombs were set!
"Brothers, we're going to pick up Guarnere and his men; there are things we need there, and then, taking advantage of the Germans rushing back to the rear, we'll return!" The mission was basically accomplished at this point.
If they could safely reach their own defensive line, this would be a classic infiltration operation.
Maneuver warfare, ambush warfare, luring the tiger out of the mountains, feigning to the east and attacking to the west—tactics shimmering with ancient wisdom—shone with their dazzling brilliance for the first time on the European battlefield under Parks' application.