The Old Breed

Chapter 40

Furugen, Okinawa

April 2nd, 1945

I woke up in the morning to the growls of truck engines and the metallic clanking of tanks. Some officer was shouting orders outside, and there was a low inaudible hum coming from inside the house.

Only a few rays of soft sunlight could penetrate the curtains covering the windows making the room not much brighter than it had been during the night.

I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Beside me, a stretched out lump on the floor was snoring quietly, and I debated whether it'd be funny to wake up Lanky with a good morning slap or not. Thinking about how troublesome it was to get and stay asleep anymore, I decided to let him sleep peacefully. Two of the replacements were whispering in one of the near corner, the low hum I'd heard before. I noticed the table, quickly scanned the bloody sheets void of covering a boy. Both Doc and the kid were gone.

"Where's the others?" I whispered towards the two replacements, reluctant to disturb the peace.

'"Sarge went over to HQ to find out the lay down on what's goin' on. Rest of the guys are out front getting fresh air." answered one of the replacements - Kranz? - his tone a little bit louder.

"Okay."

I stepped quickly through the dim house, pushed aside the heavy curtain door. The morning air was surprisingly cool, and it took me amount to realize it was because we had moved much farther from the equator now, which Peleliu had sat near. The road was busy, U.S. Marines moving about casually, and jeeps and trucks honking and slowly pushing their ways through the throng. I spotted my squad on the opposite side of the road, sitting in a small sunlit clearing. Making my way past the Marines, stopping only once to curse out a distracted jeep driver who almost clipped me, I settled my way in beside the squad. Everyone was there except Ed Thomas, Kranz, Sarge, and Lanky. I found a spot beside Rocky and sat down. I noticed each of the squad holding steaming mugs of coffee in their hands.

"Shit, Rocky, where can I get some of that?"

He leaned to his side and picked up another cup of coffee, still steaming. He grinned. "Your boy's already gotcha covered."

"Geez, you're a lifesaver. Thanks."

He grinned again, into his mug, taking slow careful sips. "Careful, that stuff is hot."

I looked down into my mug. The liquid was almost black, devoid of any small benefits like cream and sugar. I slowly dipped my cup back and forth, watching the liquid adapt to the sudden change. "How'd you get these hot?"

"Mess tent over by HQ. The cooks were serving coffee without donuts. The monsters."

"Hah. Jesus, I haven't had a donut in years."

"Same here, brother."

"Where is HQ, by the way?"

"Back down the road a bit. Hell if I know. Look, here comes the lieutenant."

I looked up from my coffee. Gibs was sauntering down the road, looking straight at us. He was your average looking guy off the block. Put him in a suit and I would think of him as a lawyer or professional businessman, not a lieutenant in the Marine Corps. He was solidly built, with thick arms and legs. He had his copper hair cropped short on the sides and longer on the top, a haircut I had no idea how he got in the middle of a training camp. He was young, clean shaven, looked more like he couldn't even grow a beard. He was layered up in his field jacket, long pants, cartridge belt, and pack, the spitting image of a Marine on the cover of one of the pamphlets at boot camp. He had his helmet tucked under his arm like a football.