TDTLBU Chapter Fifty-Six

"Still shook up," Sam was saying for the dozenth time. He was recounting the story to the others who were listening in mixed amusement and disbelief. "Kinda funny when you realize Sandy actually captured Chief…"

Sandy wasn't very amused by the story. Now that it was over, he'd rather not think of it again. It was plain that Sam was never going to let him forget it. Nor any of the others, for that matter. Mail call had come that afternoon for the first time in days and somehow the men were more interested in hearing about how Sandy turned temporary Kraut than in the news from home. Well, that was a first. Nothing, except Omaha, had ever managed to top the mail.

"Hey, Sandy," Sam called over to where Sandy was sitting by himself, trying to read his letters. "What does halt dee kloppee mean?"

"Halt die klappe," Sandy yelled back. "It means shut your trap and you'd better do it too, flamehead."

"There, see?" Sam spoke indignantly. "He's still at it. Grab 'im, boys, he's gonna get what's coming to him." 

"Good grief, you nut, you're going way overboard with this," Sandy cried as they surrounded him and hauled him to his feet, pinning his arms behind his back. "Like Chief said, I saved your life, okay? Don't get testy or I'll regret doing it. Heck, I already regret it. Should've lit out the back door and let you fend for yourself."

"Maybe you did save his life," Ralph laughed. "But that was a highly unconventional way of doing it."

"You face a dozen armed Krauts and see if you can get out of it," Sandy muttered, struggling violently. But they wouldn't let go.

"All I want is a chance to yell "Schnell! Schnell!" in your face," Sam was laughing. "And to poke you with a rifle," and he did so. Sandy managed to squirm away from his captors and lunged at Sam, but was pulled back before he could strangle him. Ronnie was gripping Sandy's collar as if he was a misbehaving schoolboy, looking from Sandy and Sam who were glaring murderously at each other, to everyone else, doubled over with wild laughter.

"What's the matter with you two?" He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Bad as Torpedo and Cat, you guys. Now sit down and behave yourselves. I can get you in a lot of trouble if I want to. I've got news, and you're not gonna believe this," He waved a fistful of envelopes over his head and he was smiling. He hadn’t smiled in weeks. That fact alone was enough to silence the entire group.

“The war’s over.” Sandy said promptly, grinning wryly. He knew it was far from over. Dan slapped him.

“Just got letters… from both my sisters…” Ronnie dropped to the ground, shuffling the envelopes eagerly.

“And?” Sam fumbled in his pockets for a match and lit his last cigarette, frowning at it as if it was to blame for being the last one.

“Josh an’ Mac are alive.”

Stunned silence greeted his announcement. Sam paused with his cigarette halfway to his mouth. Andy, who had been half asleep in spite of the earlier ruckus Sam and Sandy were making, was wide awake now. 

“Says so right here,” Ronnie smoothed out the crumpled pages of a letter. “See? This is from my sister Emma, with the 17th evacuation hospital… she says that Josh was brought into the hospital on June tenth. Wounded really bad, they got him into immediate surgery and she says he’s going to be okay now. He’s been sent on to England. And this,” he pulled out the other letter. “Is from my sister Katie. She’s a nurse’s aide with the Red Cross, in England. She works with the amputees and says that Mac came in on the twelfth of June.”

“Amputees…” Dan leaned forward, frowning. “Did Mac…”

“Lost his right leg,” Ronnie answered quietly. “She says he’s taking it pretty well… better than some. He’s in therapy now. They’ll send him home when he recovers.”

Sandy let out a low whistle, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Never thought I’d see those guys again, not on this side of heaven. Thank God.”

"I think I can go on after this," Ronnie smiled crookedly, hoping no one knew he was fighting back tears. "God is with us."

✯✯✯

"Where'd ya lose yer leg?" The man who spoke was sitting in the cafeteria, attempting to feed himself with hooked prostheses strapped on the end of the stumps of his arms. A jagged scar ran across his scalp, his hair shaved close to his head. He spoke with a strong southern drawl.

"Omaha, " Mac answered shortly as he plunked his plate onto the table. "You?"

"Pointe du Hoc," he grinned bitterly. "I was one of the rangers who climbed up there."

"Sorry," Mac shook his head.

"Me too. But I'll survive."

"Pathetic. Absolutely sick." A man across the table glared angrily at them with his one good eye. His other eye was covered with a patch. He had his right arm, but his left was gone. "Look at us… every one of us… we used to be good men and now we're destroyed."

Mac winced. He knew it, but hearing it spelled out in plain English hurt. 

"It's a good cause," he said quietly. 

"Good cause? Ha!" The one-eyed man laughed scornfully. "What's it all for? Tell me, buddy. It's no good, I tell you."

"We won at Omaha," Mac spoke between clenched teeth.

"Won? Won what? A three-hundred yard strip of bloody sand. Thousands dead and thousands more, like me and you, mangled beyond repair. We're no good to the country anymore and we're no good to our families. Think they'll want us now, crippled, worthless invalids? We're just the cast-off garbage of a worthless war."

"You shut your trap, you bampot!" Mac struggled to stand, gripping his crutches. Still not completely used to his wooden leg, he had left it off today. "My brothers died for this war." 

The one-eyed man rose too and stepped forward swiftly, curling his right hand into a fist. He still had two good legs , but Mac had two good fists and he raised them threateningly, tossing his crutches aside as the other man advanced. 

"Look at you," the one-eyed man sneered as Mac balanced precariously on one leg. "You know it's true. We're gonna lose this war and your brothers and mine will have died in vain. We… all of us…" with a sweep of his arm, he indicated the dozens of men sitting in the cafeteria, watching the conflict with narrowed eyes. Some were shouting curses and insults, siding with one or the other of the opponents. "All of us sacrificed our limbs for nothing," the man added. "We'll lose this war and Hitler and the Nazis and the Japs will take over the world and murder our women and children and…" He got no further. Mac's hand closed around his throat as he foolishly stepped too close. 

"You shut your filthy mouth or I'll choke off your air," Mac growled. He released the man, but only for a moment. He grabbed him again, this time by his shoulders, shaking him like a dog. He was nearly twice the size of the other man and was easily able to lift him off his feet. But when he set him down, the one-eyed man swung his fist and it connected with Mac's jaw. By this time, those who could stand were gathered in a tight circle around the two, yelling wildly. Mac had lost his balance, falling from the impact of the hit, but the men around him broke his fall and pushed him up again. The cafeteria was flooded with nurses, standing back in alarm as they realized they had no control over these angry men. Someone went running to find a doctor. Mac swung back, knocking the other man to the ground.

"Mac!" A shrill voice called from the back of the crowd. "Mac… no!" 

He ignored the cry, seeing red with rage as his opponent jumped to his feet. Katie was pushing her way through the circle of men, her face white with panic. Mac was caught off guard, turning to glance at her as she flew to his side. He was knocked off balance again by a punch that he never saw coming and fell heavily. 

"Get away from him!" Katie shouted as she fell to her knees, reaching up to block the fist of the one-eyed man. He tried to stop himself when he realized a woman was in the way, but he hit her against the side of her head before he could completely pull his punch. She took it well, pulling her head back up fiercely as he nearly knocked her over, her eyes blazing. "You wouldn't… you couldn't hit a man when he's down, you coward!" She was glad Mac hadn't seen her get hurt.

A few doctors had arrived on the run, to the relief of the frightened nurses, and were herding the angry, restless patients out of the cafeteria and back to their wards. The one-eyed man was protesting angrily, trying to explain his innocence as he assured the doctors that Mac had attacked him. 

"I saw the whole thing," Katie shot back as the doctors looked to her, questioningly. She was cradling Mac's head in her lap as she checked his face for bruises. "This man," she indicated Mac with a nod. "He was justified in fighting back. The other man said things that couldn't be ignored." 

"These poor men," one of the doctors spoke sadly, shaking his head. "We can't blame any of them, can we? We'll never understand what they've been through." He took the one-eyed man by the arm and guided him out of the room without another word. 

"Are you okay?" Katie glanced down at Mac with concern, pressing the hem of her apron to his bleeding lip. He nodded slightly, unsure of what to say. He was silently berating himself for exploding like that when he could have just ignored the other man. But it had felt good to punch him. And Katie was right, after all. The things the other man had said… they really couldn't have been ignored. After all he had been through, the last thing he wanted to believe was that it had all been in vain. He believed in the cause for which he had risked life and limb with every fiber of his heart and soul. What was it that Ronnie had always said? Be strong, soldier…we will win this war. 

And win we will, Mac told himself savagely. He knew they wouldn't stop fighting until the Third Reich in all its evil power had been eradicated from the face of the earth. As for what else had been said… he didn't want to think about it. But it had sliced through his heart and the pain was unbearable. 

"We're no good to the country anymore and we're no good to our families. Think they'll want us now, crippled, worthless invalids? We're just the cast-off garbage of a worthless war."

He closed his eyes, willing himself to forget those words. He forced his mind into the present… and found it wasn't a hard thing to do. He could have lain there forever, with the feeling of her gentle hands on his face and the sound of her soft voice above him.

"Well, one thing is for sure," Katie was saying, shooing the other nurses away as they peered curiously at Mac, silently asking if she needed assistance. "Josh and Ronnie weren't kidding about that temper of yours. I think…" she giggled. "I saw an angry cat, eh, Malcom Isaac?"

"They told you all that?" Mac grinned half-heartedly.

"Sure did, Cat. Mm… should I be worried?"

"Bout what?"

"Why… you, silly. You're a cat. And you call me Lintie… that means bird. And don't cats kill birds?"

"I would never hurt you!" Mac cried vehemently and she giggled again. 

"I hope not. Here, sit up and let me check your leg. You could've hurt it, falling like that."

"I'm not that much of an invalid," Mac laughed as he pushed himself to a sitting position. 

"All the same," Katie glanced over the stump of his leg quickly and nodded to herself. "It pays to be on the safe side. Think you can get up again?" She stood, bending down to hook her hands under his arms as she helped him stand. "You, Cat, are going to have a pretty sore jaw and a rather impressive shiner. You'd better get yourself back to the ward and let me take care of it." She bent to retrieve his crutches. When she handed them to him, she glanced up at his face and her eyes filled with sudden sadness. She reached out to grip his hand in both of hers.

"It's okay, Mac," she murmured comfortingly. "I'm not mad at you. And I don't blame you for fighting. No one does. That man deserved it…" she paused, shaking her head. "I'm sorry… so sorry… for everything you've been through. You're a hero, Mac, whether you know it or not."