“To be idle is a short road to death and to be diligent is a way of life; foolish people are idle, wise people are diligent.”
-Buddha
It was the single sweetest thing anyone in the platoon had seen in months. Despite the horrific backdrop, buildings burning, streets ablaze, entire columns of men and equipment burning all around, the site of 2nd Battalion’s armored units moving up felt like a bonafide godsend.
Every tank and IFV painted in their desert camo colors, the familiar and friendly emblem of the Rattlesnakes on the side. It was all they could do to prevent from crying.
“Bout time!” many voices yelled at once, others content to hoot and holler.
Standing next to Dezba, Braun had his own take on the procession.
“I get the feeling this is how the hundred and first felt when Patton’s boys came rolling in,” he said. Dezba looked at him sideways.
“How do you mean, sir?”
“Army news said Patton’s first armored saved the airborne boys from being overrun by Germans. Airborne boys replied that they never needed saving. They were hit hard, hungry and tired by the time they got relieved, but the Germans never managed to take the ground they were holding away from them.”
Dezba nodded, suddenly understanding, then frowned. There was something about that logic that didn’t sit right with him.
“Are saying it was you guys who saved the butts of me and mine?”
Braun looked at him, mock-offended. “Sergeant. Everyone knows you’re a part of this platoon. Saving your ass was akin to saving my own.” Dezba cocked an eyebrow. That didn’t exactly answer his question, not satisfactorily anyway. “Besides, everybody knows that if it weren’t for you, I’d have been lunch for that bastard we got on ice in there.”
“Yeah, I think we’re even there,” Dezba replied said, looking down at his left hand. Braun’s face quickly lost its smirking grin. Somehow, he always seemed to forget how that day ended. Two men walking from a flaming pile of bush, one with broken ribs and a million bruises, the other with a cauterized stump. Between them, a rotting head with gore hanging from the neck.
After everything else they’d seen and done that day, it was just easier to black that part of it out.
“And I think everyone owes the biggest debt to the big guy upstairs,” he continued. “We make it through today, it’s only going to be with the kind of help that comes from above.”
Braun nodded. He couldn’t really argue with that. In front of them, one of 2nd Battalion’s Bradley’s came to a stop and the top hatch opened. Braun could see from the emblem on the side that this was the BCT’s G1 vehicle. He began moving to its side even before he spotted the Captain’s stepping from the rear hatch.
He was sure to come to attention and salute as soon as he appeared.
“Lieutenant Braun,” the Captain said, stepping off the ramp and coming before him. “Good to see you’re still in one piece.”
“Captain Garcia,” he replied, snapping his salute. “Happy to see you too. We were starting to think we wouldn’t get any relief.”
The Captain looked grimly at the front of the hospital and shook his head. On some level, he was thinking the same thing: that said relief had come too late.
“Have you got the remains?”
“Yes, sir. Still inside. The enemy never managed to touch them.”
“Good news, for a change. When we heard the enemy was moving on the hospital, we feared the worst.”
“Truth be told sir, we’re not even sure they ever knew it was here.”
Garcia hummed thoughtfully and looked in the direction of the building, eying the fallen facade intently. There was something else, he could tell. Some form of bad news that he waited to get to. Given what he said next, he was opting to wait a little longer before broaching it.
“Lieutenant, First and Second Battalion are moving on Warlock as we speak. The Colonel has moved his command post to a rallying point just south of town, where I’ve been ordered to escort you.”
“Yes, sir…” he said, looking back at his troops, arrayed out in front. “What about my platoon.”
The Captain cleared his throat. “The… remainder of your platoon is being circled to the rear. Until such time as they needed, or this battle is resolved, you are all to stand down.”
Braun frowned. Given all they’d been through today, a stand down order was about the nicest thing he could hope for. But as long the fight was still on, it didn’t seem kosher that First Platoon would be sitting out. Something didn’t sit right with him suddenly. He suspected the bad news was hidden somewhere in the midst of this…
“Captain, I don’t understand. We’ve been on point for this entire battle. It was out reconnaissance which gave Command all the intel it needed on Warlock. And it was our unit that secured the remains of Mance Harmonn and eliminated the enemy threat to the hospital.”
“All of which Command is grateful for, Lieutenant. You’ve battled against terrible odds and managed to come through. But given your losses, wouldn’t it be nice to turn in and let others take it from here?”
That wasn’t it, Braun knew. But he also knew that he wasn’t going to get the straight dope from the Captain here. Only Haynes would be doing that. And that would only happen once he was standing before him and not a moment sooner.
“I trust we’re to leave immediately?”
“As soon as possible,” Garcia replied. “But I must ask that you present Mance’s remains. The Colonel wanted those brought to his Command as well, post haste.”
Braun nodded, looked over his shoulder. He gave a nod to Dezba, who immediately turned and moved inside to fetch the carrying case. The others continued to stand about, some of them looking a little confused.
What are we waiting for? their faces seemed to be saying. He knew what he would tell them, and he hoped they wouldn’t be able to read between the lines too well. It was a good thing Saunders was peaceably unconscious inside, because she would see right through any attempt he made to put a smile on this.
In spite of the fact she had served with them only a few months, she knew him better than anyone in the platoon. In some ways, better than he knew himself. That was probably one of the reason why he loved her.
I wish I could admit that, he thought. Now it might be too late…
“May I have a word with my troops before we leave?”
“Of course, Lieutenant,” replied Garcia. They exchanged salutes before Braun left him standing there and ran to meet his people, all standing in a row by the front entrance. All snapped their heels together as he presented himself before them, like good soldiers preparing for inspection.
“At ease, soldiers,” he said. “I got good news. Given our performance today, Command has decided that First Platoon, and our newly found friends from Charlie Company,” he nodded in Watkins direction, “have earned themselves a break. Second Battalion will be escorting you all back to friendly territory. I expect you can all look forward to some showers and hot food when you get there.”
The news went over like a quiet blessing. Though subdued, their reaction could be described as elated. He hoped they weren’t holding back for his sake.
“Did you hear what I said, platoon? Nothing to say? Whitman?”
He pointed to the Private, who could always be expected to sum up a situation with something trite and to the point.
“Yes, sir. Cold showers and hot food, Amen to that, sir.”
“You could try showing a little more excitement, people. Things are wrapping up around Warlock, and you are mercifully being taken off the line. You can look forward to some R and R now people, because you earned it!”
“Sir?” Majorca said, raising his arm. “What’s happening to you, sir?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You said we are being taken off the line, sir. What’s happening to you in all this?”
Braun cleared his throat. He was hoping no one would notice that. Semantics were a rope that one could hang themselves with, if they were not careful. “I’ve been asked to report to the Colonel for debriefing. No doubt he wants to get a first-hand perspective about our mission, and maybe fleece me a little for committing us to the fray.”
He said it jokingly, but no one laughed. He didn’t blame them. On some level, they had to know he was responsible for all those friends and comrades who had died here today. Regardless of whether or not they were in agreement with him going in, things had not turned out ideally. And in that, he suspected they knew any talk of “fleecing” was more than just a wry joke. He could see it in there eyes.
Sergeant Dezba showed up just then, holding the yellow case in his hands. He came to attention at Watkin’s side and saluted to him.
“Sergeant,” Braun said, returning it.
“Sir! The remains, as ordered.”
He took them from Dezba and looked to the rest of his troops. “Thank you, Sergeant. It’s my duty to inform you that you have command of first platoon until relieved or upon my return.”
Dezba looked at him confused, this being the first he was hearing of anything. He replied simply. “Yes, sir.”
“You are to report with elements of Second Battalion to a rest area that’s been set up for troops coming off the line. Until I return, you’re orders come from Captain Garcia and the BCT.”
“Yes, sir,” he said again.
Braun nodded and snapped out a final salute to Dezba and the rest. “Carry on then.” And turned to leave.
He quickly proceeded back to the Captain’s Bradley with the case under his arm. He could feel the biting cold of it cutting through his uniform, and worried for a moment about the chances of toxic contact. The sealed bag was meant to prevent any contamination, but it had seen much action throughout the day. Luckily, someone was there to receive it from him and place it in a HazMat bag.
“Shall we go then, Captain?” he asked Garcia at last. The look in his eyes was the final confirmation he needed to know what awaited him.
“Right this way, Lieutenant.”
