Since the time Jack arrived at the staging point, he designated the town church as the field hospital for the wounded and dead to be taken there. Along with many other designated areas of importance such as the temporary HQ being set up with tents under the artillery fire.
And, all the while, under the constant artillery barrage, Jack had calmly held his ground to keep the panicked traffic of men from the 101st on the move and smoothly flowing.
The only time when Jack did duck for any sort of protection was when a shell threatened to land too closely to him, and so would the others too. They're heavily relying on the experienced Captain for guidance on when to take cover from the falling ordinance.
Jack couldn't tell, but what felt like an hour at the most had felt like a lifetime before the last of the transport trucks came racing into town under the dwindling artillery bombardment.
Even the lighter mortar fire had finally come to an end, making it safe to stay out in the streets without risk of shrapnel taking your head clean off.
The streets themselves were in shambles as debris or small fires that were beginning to spread and litter the streets.
A complete building collapse on another street nearby that led up to the west had blocked off that road too, so that was in need of clearing.
As for Jack, who was standing in silence out in the road was taking in all the damage as his eyes glided over the destruction and lifeless bodies that are strewn about on the road.
Both civilian and soldier laid lifeless on the frozen earth with blood spreading out onto the white snow. Or there would be splatter against the buildings where shrapnel had torn into the poor bastards, leaving gory remains of the recipient from the shelling.
Slowly turning around, Jack remembered where the private had fallen and rushed to the kid's side.
For a second, Jack swore he saw the kid standing there alive and well with a wide, cheerful smile on his face in the gusting blizzard.
In shock, Jack blinked a few times before the image disappeared and reality was laying in front of him at his feet.
The body was still there, slouched forward at an uncomfortable angle and the severed head was smashed into the ground. That was when Jack saw the brain matter and the large gaping hole in the kid's cranium where the mortar round failed to explode.
Shaking his head quickly to try and forgot what he just saw, Jack turned around in a hurry from the gut wrenching sight. The church was still standing amazingly, so Jack took off in that direction to go and get help and on his way. He saw people beginning to emerge from their hiding places.
"Hey, everyone alright!?" Jack called out to them as he approached the soldiers and medical staff.
Those who weren't too shaken up by the shelling made their replies and flocked to the approaching Captain like a beacon of hope.
Many of the low ranking officers were hit by shrapnel, or they're off tending to something that was brought up during the initial shelling and from what Jack could tell. These kids were fresh privates that have been a part of replenishing the division.
In other words, buck-privates fresh from basic with no combat experience whatsoever. And already Jack knew most of these greenhorns aren't going to last very long against the battle-hardened German opposition out there.
Jack took a moment to look at these new faces before he sighed a little, "Who's currently in charge of this outfit here, privates?" Jack asked as more of the men began to gather around him.
YOU ARE READING
Screaming Eagles
Historical Fiction"You're about to embark on a great crusade..." General Dwight D. Eisenhower had said in his speech to the troops prior to the opening assault on Normandy's shores. However, Jack and James O'Brian never heard that speech, because they were in the air...
