The Ghost of Him |WWII Frerard AU|

-50-

It's been nearly three weeks, and we're still stuck in Holland, desperately trying to recuperate after the attack in that town.  Dozens of regiments lost hundreds of men, while thousands more were seriously wounded.  Delta Company was one of the lucky ones, but I'm not taking pride in that fact.  We're all in the same devastating boat, and it's unlikely that we're getting out of it unscathed.

The October wind is cold, biting, completely unforgiving as we hole up in an abandoned town to plot out our next plan of attack.  Operation Market Garden failed miserably, and now, we need a new strategy, one that can hopefully undo the terrible mistakes of the previous.  We might not be able to get home by Christmas, but we're holding out for New Year's, or even Valentine's Day.  If things go according to plan, we can get out of here within a few months; I've never heard of a more tantalizing end goal.

No one else has found out about Brendon's secret, either.  It's a confidential story kept between him and me, and him and me alone.  He's not getting kicked out of Delta because of a kiss, because of an irrepressible love.  I haven't seen him and Ryan act out of the ordinary, though, so if whatever happened between them is still burning, they're keeping it surreptitious.

That's probably for the best.  We don't want word spreading like wildfire.

Regardless, time is marching on, and Delta Company is surely about to be tasked with another dangerous and terrifying mission.  It's been a long while, and our luck is bound to run out soon.

The pale sun beats down on the town when my suspicion comes true.  General Armstrong finds me sitting on the broken steps of an old church, basking in the weak warmth of the autumn sun, and drags me into a meeting among the commanders.  Frank and Dan are already there, waiting for the two of us to arrive.

I wonder what horrible mission we're going to have to carry out now.

"Way, Iero, Howell,"  General Armstrong begins, his arms folded behind his back.  "Meet Colonel Dobie, British 1st Airborne."  He nods in the direction of a rather intimidating man sitting at a dusty table, who I can only imagine is Colonel Dobie.  "Colonel, these are the leaders of Delta and the leader of Serpent.  I can assure you that they're capable of handling any task you give them."

Thanks for throwing us under the bus there, Armstrong.  It's not like there are dozens of other companies out there, but hey, all I can do is keep my mouth shut, nod along, and act like I want to be here.  There's nothing else to it.

"It appears the British lost eight thousand men when Market Garden fell on its ass,"  General Armstrong continues.  "Now, Colonel Dobie has been tasked with coordinating some kind of rescue operation for the Red Devils who were trapped when Arnhem fell."

"The Dutch resistance are harboring over one hundred of my chaps here, just outside a town fifteen miles north of the river,"  Colonel Dobie pipes up, his voice laced with a heavy British accent.  A cigar burns between his fingers, smoke billowing from his mouth as he speaks.  "They'll make their way to the riverbank and assemble in the woods here, tonight."

A detailed map covers the table in front of him.  A rough outline of his plotted rescue mission is scribbled all over the page, but shockingly enough, it's easy to read.  I know exactly where he's pointing, exactly where we need to go to find the trapped men.

If we plan this correctly, then this mission should be a cakewalk.

"Gather a rescue team from members of Delta and Serpent,"  General Armstrong orders Frank, Dan, and me.  "Get these men back across the Rhine as fast as possible."

"Over one hundred of them?"  Dan questions, one skeptical eyebrow raised.

"Canadian engineers have supplied six boats.  The rendezvous point is isolated and landable,"  Colonel Dobie replies as he stands, his face alight with a proud smirk.  "I swam it myself last night."