The Old Breed

Chapter 7

Cape Gloucester

December 26th, 1943

We reached the Third about two hours after my fall. They were hunkered down in a tallgrass field, where we found, more like stumbled upon them. Well, to be honest, we almost shot the hell out of them.

We had finally gotten out of the swamp around an hour after my incident, and as we stepped onto relatively dry land, several people were downright praising God for being out of there, while others you could see it in their posture and expression, relieved to be out of the water finally. Everyone was glad to be out of the water. It was still raining, though not as heavily as before. We'd stopped quickly, someone asking Armstrong if we could eat, which Armstrong said we could if we were fast. We didn't have to ask twice, taking the chance to sit down and pull out the different cans of C-rations to eat for a quick meal. I got my favorite, being sarcastic here, meat and beans, although most of us were really not sure what the meat actually was. Tasted something like beef to me though. Bland, dry beef. We had to eat the rations cold, and it was truly disgusting, and the beans left a bad aftertaste in my mouth for a long time afterwards. Lanky had come up to eat beside me and the whole time he couldn't stop expressing his relief for being out of the swamp. I'd nodded. I felt the same way.

Before we knew it though, it was time to saddle up, and we were back on our feet and marching. We had to stay off the trails for fear of landmines, and before long, any bare skin we had showing was cut and scratched from the sharp grass that sometimes rose up as far as our chests. At one point, down the line, we heard a sharp report in the near distance, a sniper. We had been so focused on the misery of the rain, swamp, and marching, that the invisible Japs had almost become something of an afterthought. The sniper was a much needed wake up call. From the scuttlebutt passed along the line, one the Marines in Bravo Company had been hit, but he was fine, besides the fact he was going back to one of our ships with a chunk missing from his arm.

"Stay calm, stay calm," Lanky had repeated over and over after that.

"Jesus, Lanky, I can't with you talking like that," I muttered finally, getting annoyed.

"You think I'm talkin' about you?" was Lanky's response.

I had no better response back to him. I tried looking up at the sky, seeing if I could guess the time based on the sun's position, but it was hard to do so when the sun was hidden behind clouds. Instead, I took a dollop of rain to the face. Fuck the rain, I thought angrily. By this time, my legs were beginning to cramp up from marching for at least an hour straight, but Armstrong wouldn't let us rest until we hooked up with the Third.

"Just keep going boys, shouldn't be long now." Armstrong said quietly, walking up and down our line, doing twice the effort we were doing, keeping his voice low with the threat of snipers now more serious.

Suddenly Hammer stopped, abrupt enough for me to almost run into him. The corporal got down on a knee, holding up a fist, freeze, and then motioning downwards, for us to take a knee as well. The column went dead silent and followed his lead. He motioned me to him quickly and I moved quietly to him. He leaned close, his words barely above a whisper.

"Wilson, tell Armstrong I saw helmets up ahead. Movement too, lots of movement. Have him check to see if it's the Third. I'd rather not stumble into a company of Japs." He whispered steely, his tone sending a shiver down my spine. I wanted action, but I didn't want to go up against a whole company of Japs, especially if I'd probably be one of the first attackers.

I creep my way back to Lieutenant Armstrong, carefully placing my steps so as to make as little noise as possible. Things would turn ugly real fast if it was the enemy barely one hundred yards ahead. Armstrong was surrounded by a few corporals and sergeants, all discussing something, while each would point at certain parts of a map that Armstrong was holding against his knee.