Part 4 (1/2)
The sergeant returned shortly with the lieutenant. ”That's him,” he said, pointing to Wims.
The lieutenant glanced at the green bar. ”Are you sure you got that message straight?”
Wims looked at the menacing sergeant. ”Yes, suh,” he said, swallowing.
”Somebody is crazy,” the lieutenant muttered. ”Sergeant, tell Lieutenant Haas to cover my platoon. I'm going back to the CP to see Captain Blair about this message. I'll try to be back before the attack starts to either confirm or cancel the order, but, if not, Haas is to hold his fire until he spots the white flare, or the Blues are right on top of us; whichever happens first.”
The lieutenant hustled up the hill and the sergeant went off to find Lieutenant Haas, leaving Wims alone with the machine gun and the still unconscious gunner. The distant machine-gun firing had stopped and the white smoke of a screen laid down by the Blue attackers started scudding thickly across the face of the hill, hiding them as they charged.
”Pickets are back,” the sergeant yelled at Lieutenant Haas. ”The Blues've crossed the road an' are in the gully at the bottom of the hill.”
”How the devil can I possibly see a signal flare through these trees and all this smoke?” Haas muttered to the sergeant. ”I think we've got a first-cla.s.s snafu. Let's go check the machine-gun position; if it's still there.”
A whistle sounded and the Blue company surged up out of the ditch and swarmed up the hill. As had been ordered, not a defending shot had yet been fired. Wims opened the breech of the machine gun to see if the ammunition belt was properly engaged. He had a difficult time forcing it open and when he succeeded he found the webbing twisted and a couple of cartridges jammed in at impossible angles. As he was trying to clear it, the unconscious gunner revived, glanced at the advancing Blues and made for the gun which Wims had already commenced to take apart.
”Whaddaya doin'?” the gunner yelled. He pushed Wims aside, causing him to release his hold on the powerful spring. The bolt shot out of the back of the gun and struck the approaching Lieutenant Haas above the left ear just as he was opening his mouth to give the order to return fire. He fell to the ground with the command unspoken and the sergeant knelt to his aid. At the same moment Wims recognized some members of his platoon charging up the hill and realized for the first time he was behind enemy lines. In sheer embarra.s.sment he slunk away, hoping none of his comrades would notice.
The lieutenant who had gone to confirm Wims' message now came running down the hill shouting at his men to return fire. He had his captain with a lieutenant aide in tow and when they reached the machine-gun nest and the fallen Haas the lieutenant looked for Wims.
”I tell you he was here,” the lieutenant said. ”The gunner and the sergeant can bear me out.”
”And I tell you,” the captain said excitedly, ”I did not issue any such bird-brained order.”
[Ill.u.s.tration]
A lieutenant referee tapped the captain on the shoulder. ”Sir, would you gentlemen please leave the field,” he said, indicating the lieutenant, the captain and his aide, the sergeant, the gunner and the unconscious Haas. ”You are all dead.”
The captain looked around to discover that their little group was the target of the blank fire of several advancing Blue infantrymen. ”But we're trying to straighten out a mix-up here,” the captain protested.
”I'm sorry, sir, but you're all standing here gossiping in the middle of a battle. Theoretically you are all Swiss cheese. Please leave the area.”
”We WON'T leave the area!” the captain shouted. ”I'm trying to tell you we wouldn't be dead if some idiot hadn't gotten in here and bollixed up this training exercise and--”
”... It was a brilliant demonstration of infiltration and diversionary tactics by Dolliver Wims,” said General Fyfe, striding forward.
The captain rolled his eyes heavenward in supplication before turning to face the general. ”Sir,” he inquired acidly, ”What _are_ dolliver wims?”
”Private Wims is the embodiment of the initiative and resourcefulness we are trying to inculcate in all our soldiers. I observed the entire operation and he has demonstrated a great potential for leaders.h.i.+p.”
Fyfe hesitated and for a moment a shadow of repugnance darkened his features as if, for purposes of camouflage, he were about to perform the necessary but distasteful task of smearing mud over his crisp, s.h.i.+ning uniform. ”I am recommending Private Wims for a battlefield commission.”
”A battlefield commission during a training exercise?” the captain screeched incredulously.
Fyfe looked at him severely. ”Captain, if you are unable to communicate except in those high tones, I would suggest a visit to the base hospital for some hormones.” The general paused and looked around. ”It seems, captain, you've lost the hill.” He glanced at his watch. ”And in record time, too.”
”Sir,” the captain said, ”I won't accept that. This is a limited training exercise conducted without benefit of full communications, weapons or elaborate tactics. Blue company had no right to send a man behind our lines to--”
”Captain,” Fyfe said with annoyance, ”you are the most argumentative corpse I have ever encountered. I'm leaving now to get that recommendation off to Was.h.i.+ngton. In the meantime, have someone tell Captain Aronsen to see that Wims is not a.s.sa.s.sinated before we get him his lieutenancy.”