Murphy's Law
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Sergeant Saunders
turned and studied the group of men sprawled in the sun at the base of the wall.
Littlejohn and Caje were both sporting bandages on their shooting arms, and Kirby had a
bandage covering one eye. Doc was out of the question since he couldn't carry or use
a weapon. That left Billy. Saunders sighed in resignation. Billy was a
good enough soldier, but he could talk your ear off and lately he'd been pretty
clumsy. Well, Saunders thought, it was just a jeep ride and all the kid had to do
was ride shotgun. He couldn't cause any trouble there, could he? |
"Nelson."
He called. "Saddle up. Go get a jeep from motor pool." |
"Yes,
sir." Nelson jumped up, nearly falling over Kirby's out-stretched legs. |
"Don't
call me sir!" Saunders snapped. |
"Yes,
sir. I mean Sarge." |
Grabbing
his helmet, Nelson moved off, returning sheepishly when Littlejohn hollered at him to get
his rifle. Saunders shook his head in weary disbelief as he watched the young
soldier hurry away, dropping his helmet twice. |
"Hey,
Sarge? Want me to come?" Caje offered. |
Though
sorely tempted, Saunders shook his head. |
"No,
it's just a routine run to Company. I'll survive." |
"You
hope." Kirby grinned. |
^^^ |
Nelson roared up
in a cloud of dust and jumped out of the jeep. |
"I
filled her up, checked the oil, checked the tires and grabbed some extra ammo." |
"Alright.
Let's get going." With some misgivings, Saunders climbed into the passenger
side and lifted a hand in response to the farewells from the others. |
"Hey,
Sarge, did you hear what Kelly's planning this time?" |
"No."
He kept his eyes front, hoping Nelson would take the hint. |
He
didn't, and was still talking when the jeep's engine died and the vehicle rolled to a
stop. |
"I
filled the tank, Sarge!" Nelson protested in response to Saunders' accusatory
glare. |
"With
what? Water?" |
"With
gasoline!" |
"Well,
check the engine, Nelson." |
Billy
raised the hood and stuck his head under it, finally coming around to where Saunders sat
smoking a cigarette. |
"I
don't know what's wrong with it, Sarge." |
Without
a word, Saunders got out and checked the gas tank. He looked around, picked up a
thin stick and poked it into the tank. He turned and held the dry stick up in front
of Nelson, whose jaw dropped. |
"But...I...It..."
He stammered. |
"Nelson!"
Saunders snapped angrily. |
"But
I filled it!" Billy insisted. "Sergeant Johnston was standing right
beside me while I did it!" |
Tossing
the stick aside, Saunders crawled under the jeep, cursing under his breath as he got back
up. |
"There's
a hole the size of Chicago in the tank. Did you bring a radio?" |
"Yeah."
Billy pulled it out of the back seat and handed it to Saunders. |
"King Two,
this is White Rook. Come in." |
After
calling several more times with no response, Saunders shook the radio, wincing at the
rattling noise coming from inside. |
"Did
you drop it?" |
"No."
Nelson looked downright miserable. "I'm sorry, Sarge." |
"For
what? Did you punch a hole in the gas tank?" |
"No,
of course not." |
"Did
you break the radio?" |
"No!" |
"Then
what are you apologizing for? Get your gear. Looks like we're walking." |
"To
Company?" Nelson stared at him. |
"Yeah, to
Company. We're about halfway there. It makes more sense to go on than to go
back and start over. Let's go." |
They
shouldered their weapons and started down the road. While they walked, this time in
silence, Saunders pulled out and studied a map. |
"I
didn't get us lost, did I?" Billy asked anxiously. |
"No."
Saunders smothered a grin. "We'll head through these trees on the left and pick
up the road on the other side." |
"Okay."
Nelson started to turn, then turned back. "Sarge?" |
"Yeah?" |
"What about
Krauts? And mines?" |
"Shouldn't
be any of either. We're not at the front anymore." |
^^^ |
Saunders shook
his head at Nelson's antics as he happily jumped over a log, then snatched up a long weed
to chew on while they walked. He couldn't remember being that young and
carefree. It felt like he'd been at war forever. First Africa, then Italy, and
now France. There were days when he couldn't remember where he was. As they
moved through the trees, Saunders took the lead, his Thompson slung over his
shoulder. Behind him, he heard a crashing in the bushes, but before he could turn,
Nelson was pushing him and yelling at him to run. |
"Krauts?"
Saunders asked, trying to turn. |
"No!"
Nelson actually grabbed his arm, dragging him along. "Some kind of
animal. Big and ugly." |
Pulling
free, Saunders stopped and looked behind them, then joined Nelson in full flight. It
was big and ugly. It was a huge boar, tusked, and obviously angry.
Having seen what an angry pig could do to a man, Saunders headed for the nearest climbable
tree, Nelson at his heels. He boosted Nelson up to the lowest branch and swung
himself up, barely avoiding the beast's charge. Feeling his Thompson slipping, he
grabbed for it, nearly falling off the limb. Nelson, one arm wrapped around the
trunk, seized Saunders's web belt and pulled him back up. They both watched in
dismay as the Thompson landed on the ground right in front of the pig. Unable to
reach the trespassers in his domain, the pig settled for mangling the gun. Finally
remembering his .45, Saunders pulled it out and shot the enraged animal. Replacing
the pistol, he started to swing down. |
"Nelson.
Billy! You can let go now." |
"Sorry."
He quickly released the belt. "What is that?" |
"A
boar." |
"I
didn't think it was boring!" Nelson stared at him in surprise. |
"Not
b-o-r-e, Nelson. B-o-a-r. A male pig." |
"Oh." |
Saunders jumped
down beside the dead pig and picked up what used to be his Tommy gun. Nelson dropped
to the ground beside him, staring wide-eyed at the pig. |
"Man,
is that thing ugly!" |
"Let's
get moving, Nelson." Saunders threw down his gun in disgust. |
"Sure,
Sarge. Umm, which way were we going?" |
"This
way." Saunders led off. |
"The
guys will never believe this!" Billy laughed. |
"You
wanna cut the head off for a souvenir?" |
"What?!"
Nelson was so shocked that he tripped over a stick and fell. |
"I
said," Saunders was trying hard not to laugh as he watched the young soldier
clamber back to his feet. "Do you want...?" |
"No!"
Nelson interrupted. "I couldn't do that!" |
"Okay."
Saunders shrugged. "Guess they'll just have to take our word for it." |
"Yeah."
Billy agreed, relieved. |
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^^^ |
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The sergeant
resumed walking, grateful for the silence behind him. A simple trip to Company and
he'd lost a jeep, a radio, and a Thompson. What else could go wrong? Better
not even think about that! |
"Hey,
Sarge?" |
"Yeah?" |
"What's
that?" |
"What's
what?" |
"Up
there. In that tree." |
Saunders
turned to see what Nelson was looking at, missing the comforting weight of his
Thompson. The younger man was looking at a brown-gray mass the size of a watermelon
resting in the fork of a tree about ten feet over their heads. |
"I
think it's a hornet's nest." |
"Like
bees?" |
"Yeah,
only meaner." |
As
they stood looking at the nest, first one insect, then another flew out. |
"Uh-oh.
I think they're after us." Billy said. |
"Two
of 'em aren't going to hurt us." Saunders started walking. |
"There's
a lot more than two." Billy sounded worried. |
Saunders
glanced over his shoulder and did a double-take. Nelson was right. There were
a lot more. In fact, there was a cloud of buzzing insects behind them. One of
them zipped past Nelson's ear and he broke into a run, nearly knocking Saunders off of his
feet on the way past. |
"Nelson!"
Saunders yelled. "Get back here!" |
Nelson kept going
and as several hornets dive-bombed his head, Saunders sprinted after him. He
followed Nelson's panicked flight through the thick undergrowth, increasing his pace at
Nelson's startled yell. The next thing he knew, he was face down in a slimy, muddy,
stinking pond. Wiping the muck out of his eyes, he found Nelson on his knees beside
him, slimy weeds dripping off of his helmet, while he frantically felt around the bottom
of the pond. |
"What
are you doing?" Saunders demanded. |
"I
lost my rifle!" |
The
sergeant struggled to his feet, torn between laughter and anger. When Nelson pulled
up a mud-covered creature, then dropped it with a look of horror, laughter won out.
Still laughing, Saunders dripped his way to the bank and squatted down to wipe his hands
in the grass. Watching his muddy companion crawl around in the pond, Saunders pulled
out his cigarettes. He threw the soggy, gooey mess down in disgust and motioned to
Nelson. |
"Come
on out. Let's get moving." |
"But,
Sarge, my rifle?" |
"Get
another at Company." |
"Okay." |
He
slogged his way out of the pond to Saunders, shaking his arms to dislodge the sticky mud. |
"Oops.
Sorry, Sarge." He apologized when some of it hit Saunders in the face. |
Saunders
waved off the apology and started walking, his boots squelching with every step. |
"Hey,
Sarge? Where'd the hornets go?" |
"Probably
died laughing, Nelson." |
"How
long till we reach the road?" |
"Shouldn't
be too much further." |
"Sarge?" |
"Yeah?"
He sighed. |
"Why
are we going to Company, anyway?" |
"To
pick up the lieutenant, new maps, and a correspondent." |
"Not
Eleanora Hunt again? She caused enough trouble at Trois Anges." |
"No,
this one's a man." |
"What
do we do with him?" |
"Drop
him off with Item Company." |
"Well,
why doesn't Item pick him up?" |
"Nelson,
just keep your eyes open." |
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^^^ |
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Saunders plodded
along, disgusted with the whole world. His uniform was clammy and cold where it
wasn't stiff and scratchy; he'd lost a jeep, a radio, his Thompson, and a rifle; he had no
cigarettes; the map was useless and the kid just would not shut up. All he needed
now was to run into some Krauts. At least they were far enough back to make that
unlikely. |
"Hey,
Sarge. It looks like the road just ahead." Nelson, who had taken the
lead, called back. |
"Good."
Saunders grunted. |
"Uh,
Sarge?" |
"Now
what?" |
"I
think I hear someone talking in German." |
Casting
a why-me? glance heavenward, Saunders worked his sidearm free of the mud-stiffened leather
and moved ahead of Nelson, motioning him to slow down. He eased forward until
he could see the road, peering around a tree. A private was changing the rear tire on a
jeep parked beside the road while a sergeant stood to one side, his weapon covering two
Germans who were sitting in the grass talking. |
"Hey!"
Saunders called out. "I'm an American. Sergeant Saunders.
361st. I've got a private with me." |
"Com'on
out. Slowly. With your hands up." The sergeant turned to cover them as
the private dropped his tools and grabbed his rifle. The two Americans and the two
Germans gaped at the filthy, bedraggled soldiers emerging from the trees. |
"American?
I'm not even sure you're human." The private grinned. |
"What
the heck happened to you?" The sergeant demanded. |
"It's a long
story. Can we catch a ride with you? We're heading for the 361st Company
HQ." |
By
this time, Saunders and Nelson had reached the group. Wrinkling his nose, the
sergeant backed away. |
"I,
uh, don't think there's enough room in the jeep, Sergeant." |
"Can't
say that I blame you. You got any cigarettes?" |
"Sure."
He tossed Saunders a full pack. |
"How
far is it to Company?" |
"Mile.
Mile and a half, maybe." |
"Thanks."
Saunders nodded and started down the road, Nelson trailing him unhappily. |
"Gosh,
Sarge, there was plenty of room." He protested. |
"Just
walk, Nelson." Saunders told him, happily lighting a smoke. |
A
few minutes later, the jeep approached and slowed down several feet away. The driver
tossed something which Saunders caught automatically. |
"What is
it?" Nelson asked as the jeep roared off. |
"Chocolate
bar." Saunders chuckled. " Want half?" |
"Sure!" |
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^^^ |
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When they finally drew in sight of the HQ, Saunders could see Hanley standing by
the doorway, watching them approach. |
"Just
one question, Sergeant." Hanley tried mightily not to grin. |
"Yes,
sir?" |
"Either
one of you wounded?" |
"No,
sir." |
"Good.
Showers are that way. Get cleaned up and back here in half an hour." |
"Yes,
sir." |
Watching
the two filthy, miserable soldiers clump away, Hanley started to laugh. When
Saunders waggled a disgusted hand at him, Hanley laughed so hard that he had to grab the
doorframe to stay upright. He couldn't remember ever seeing his tough, no-nonsense
sergeant looking so disgusted and miserable. It would be worth remembering, he was
sure. |
WITH MANY THANKS TO TXMEDIC FOR HER ASSISTANCE!!!! |
Copyright 2001
Story Copyright Mary Wright. All Rights Reserved.
Read more Dogface Tales by Mary:
The CombatFan web site thanks Mary (aka "EagleLady") for letting
us share these fan fiction stories on this web site.
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