It was hard to believe the war was over.
I was fighting my way out of the base of the Flakturm, dozens of SS protecting one of the few hard points before Berlin, when suddenly, the ground shook with a resounding vengeance. The Earth seemed to finally be done with Nazi tyranny.
It swallowed the entire structure. I saw explosions in the base, before the tower and everything in it lowered into the depths of hell. Then the smoke and fire rose to greet me. I could do little but shield my eyes and duck for cover.
Once the dust settled, both literally and figuratively, I stumbled around to find a lone soldier, holding a hellbox.
"Thunder!" I shouted
He swung around, his M1 still at the ready. I nearly shot him, before he yelled, "Flash."
I let out a big sigh.
"At ease airborne."
I walked up to him, slamming him on the shoulder with an oof.
"Come on, let's regroup at Charlie." I motioned with my head to follow.
He looked at my silver bar, nodded, then joined me headed back down the street.
The weapon I carried felt heavy in my hands, covered in dust and blood; but then again, what here wasn't? I held with me a real prize, the finest weapon the world had ever seen. A prototype version of a new class of weapon, the letters I had translated to MKB-42. A matching ZF-4 4x marksman's scope, I kept in my back pouch, in case I needed to range out. Half my ammo was depleted, but several of the downed soldiers had ammo I could use. What little I scrounged up, I stuffed in my pack.
I know, I'm a heartless son-of-a-bitch, but war doesn't care if you're Jesus or Judas. You lose your legs, based mostly on luck. Thankfully, me and my friend here were pretty lucky.
"Say, I never got your name, man." I looked over at the two chevron'd soldier.
"Corporal Travers." He responded.
"Well Travers, did you blow up that tower?"
He said nothing, so I looked at him. He realized he had zoned out, nodding almost imperceptibly.
"Damn. You should get a Medal of Honor for that." I patted him on the back again.
We continued walking down the shattered street, weary of the sounds of combat still echoing around us. The war was about over, but not for us. Not for any of us. We made our way to one of the green flares, symbols of safety and supplies.
"Thunder!" I called loudly, hoping they wouldn't think I was a kraut. Considering that I held a German weapon, but everything about me screamed American.
"Flash!" A voice yelled back, and we stepped into a small, partly shattered building. The radio and American flag signified this place as a Forward Operating Base, FOB for short.
"Who's the senior officer here?" I asked another grizzled soul. He pointed weakly at a man dressed for combat. I would've thought he was a Private if it weren't for the connected silver bars on his shoulders and helmet. I gave him a nod.
"Lieutenant Marvin Jerez. 101st airborne."
"Sit down." The strangely calm voice said.
I did, leaning my rifle on the rickety wooden chair that groaned under me. Travers kept standing by the door, his head still on a swivel for enemies.
"Judging by what you look like Lieutenant, if you and he were where I think you were, you might just be the luckiest men in the whole army."
I chuckled.
"I aim to please sir."
The captain stuck out his hand
"Townsend."
"Yes sir, Captain Townsend."
I took his handshake. He got up with a groan, arching his back and put his hands on his hips.
"How many people are you Marvin?"
"Two sir. I lost my squad when our bird was shot down."
"Are you the only survivor?"
"From what I know sir. A couple others made it out, but we were too badly scattered."
"I see. How combat effective are you?"
"I could use a nice cup of tea right about now."
He chuckled, and the man beside him smiled.
"What do you think Dick? You think we should send them to the rear?"
The First Sergeant said with a smile. "He's lucky enough to get through us. I think they deserve to get a day's rest."
The Officer nodded, turning back towards me. He grabbed a pen, writing out his order onto a small sheet of yellow paper.
"Regroup and rearm lieutenant."
I gave him another nod. Saluting here was dangerous here, and they knew that.
"Thank you, Captain."
I grabbed Travers, walking him back outside. Turning to him, "You're one lucky SOB, you know that right?"
He laughed, I patted him again.
"E're I got a cigarette for you, I don't smoke." Producing a slightly crumpled, long, white, stuffed tube of tobacco for my friend here. Grabbing my black painted lighter, flicking it open, and sparking the striker. I touched the end with the flickering tongue of flame, letting it lick at the end of the cigarette until it glowed. We were safe, at least for now.
We continued marching back, back behind allied lines. A small thought weighed in my mind.
By this time tomorrow, we'd be dropping in Berlin.
We made our way to the closest field HQ set up in a train yard maybe 500 yards away. I saw Travers looking around at various locations here. I think he might've been here before. There were lots of bodies the E-1s hadn't cleaned up at all yet. I managed to sneak a peek into a small industrial area. There was a panzerzug, an armored train. As well as a platoon's worth still lying on the ground. Travers looked there as well, and I felt a cold front hit me. I saw him shudder.
"You were there?"
He just looked back at me, nodding, hanging his head.
"Alright, it's over now. I'm sorry if anyone you knew fell here. But we need to keep moving."
I guided him on.
We passed some large silos, entering a factory. Here was more railroad equipment, but now it was humming with Allied activity. I caught a soldier walking by with a crate.
"Hey, where's the SO?"
He stopped. "My SO's hundreds of miles that way, sir." Motioning with the box.
"Ah ha. No, for real Jackson, who's the senior officer."
"Back there, by the flag." He pointed behind him.
I nodded to Travers, and he followed me back. I slung away my rifle, now in relative safety from the enemy. From where Traver's looked up, there must've been snipers overlooking the yard. Lots of them.
Looking back, there was a man in dress A's, smoking a huge Cuban cigar.
"Colonel Campana!"
He turned sharply around. There was my commanding officer during my time in Africa.
"Lieutenant. Jerez!" His face lit up when he saw me.
"Sir." I gave him my best salute.
"At ease. At ease." He waved his hand at me. "Good to see you're still alive and kicking. Last I saw you, you had only two stripes."
"I don't know. You were the one who suggested me for a promotion."
We walked up and exchanged a firm handshake. Mine was burned and calloused over from years of frontline work, his too suffered from an endless series of paper cuts.
"Ah yeah, I remember that. Ha." He looked behind me and motioned. "Who's your friend?"
Travers stepped up.
"Corporal Boyd Travers. 101st Airborne."
"Well nice to meet you, Corporal Travers." He stuck out his hand for a handshake. Travers shook it.
"So... what can I do for the two of you?" The company grade officer settled into an akimbo stance.
"I could start with a warm cup of tea."
"Ha. You and your tea, Marvin. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were a Brit."
He pointed to a nearby sergeant, who promptly scurried off. He returned with a kettle, a teabag, and a canteen cup.
"Heh, at this point, I just keep tea on hand. It's good for trading, and I see you often enough."
"Small world, I guess." I chuckled as he handed the cup to me. Taking a swig that burned my lips. The stinging pain helped remind me I could still feel.
"Okay, shit's going down." Campana sat reversed in his chair, leaning into the back. "You usually wait until it cools some."
I finished my swig, offering Travers some. He refused it with a wave.
"So?" Campana was leaning in, almost to the point of no return.
"I'm ready for another assignment, and... if Travers wants to come..."
"Sir." He nodded, stepping up.
The colonel looked at the both of us, making a bunch of faces as he thought.
"Only two? Nu-uh. I ain't sending you back with only two people. What I will do..." He produced a little notebook, beginning to scribble into it. "is send you to Essen Airport, reinforce you, and send you to the Pacific?" He said that, almost like he was asking for my permission.
"The Pacific?" I stood in shock for a moment. "Luke! The war-"
"The war's over Marvin. You didn't get the memo?"
I looked down. "No sir."
"From what I heard, the bastard went up and hid in a bunker, before killing his staffers and himself. Half the German army surrendered yesterday."
I looked down at my boots, taking in the situation. I shook my head.
"Then you're gonna need men. You're gonna need men to occupy and keep the peace-"
"Marvin. I have 80,000 soldiers within ten miles. I know you're gonna say you're one of the better ones, and we both know that's true, but McArthur made it clear: that any competent, available, officers are desperately needed in the Pacific Theater."
I almost opened my mouth, but hesitantly nodded. "On your order sir."
"That's a good man." He patted me on my back.
As we turned to leave, I heard my name called out again.
"Marvin!"
I turned. Campana threw something shiny in the air. I reached out and grabbed it. It felt cold, it was metal. I looked down at it. It was two silver bars, connected by two small connectors. Like the one I saw on Townsend at the FOB.
"Marvin." I looked up at him. "Don't pin it on yourself right now. Once you get where you're going, and you do what needs to be done, consider yourself promoted. You deserve a medal by now." I looked down at the polished silver once more, then back at him. "You know I trust you way too much right?"
"Maybe, just enough Colonel." I smiled, he smiled back. I turned to walk back away, joining Travers at the door.
"I'll see you around Marvin."
I stopped, looking back at my officer.
"As will I."
For the remainder of the day, I reset my gear for the trip to the Pacific. I was told we'd be stopping over in France and Britain, before Seattle and Salinas, then continuing on to Hawaii; a refueling point on some unknown island, and then to our DZ: Drop Zone. I sighed as I boarded the plane with my new, half-grizzled squad already seated, I'd have to get to know them over the trip there. Almost all looked as if they'd been through hell, the same as me and Travers.
As I held the docket with the identities of my men, trying to guess their names and character; something drifted onto me, I shuddered. For some reason, I thought something was going to happen.
Something... not good.