My Honor Flight

by McCurrigan, Dan

  I went back to the doorway and kept the rifle pointed at him. His head lolled. He said something in German again but he was coughing and gurgling worse. I looked into the room. There was no one else there. Keeping my rifle right on his head, I stepped forward and stuck a boot under his arm, then rolled him over with my foot. He flopped onto his back. It was Dieter.

  He was gut shot, chest shot, and had one in the shoulder. He was coughing up blood and it covered his cheek and his chin. I was a little shocked at the sight, and started to pull my rifle away from his face.

  “Nein,” he whispered in a straining voice. He reached his hand toward the barrel of my rifle.

  I pulled the gun away and kneeled down next to him. He really was shot to hell. I reached into my hip pack and pulled sulfa packs out.

  “Nein, nein, nein,” he said gently. He pointed to my rifle and said something I couldn’t understand. I shook my head, trying to indicate that I didn’t understand. He sighed hard, tears streaming from his eyes. He swallowed, and held his hand up to his head like a gun, and pulled the trigger.

  He wanted me to kill him.

  I pulled back, and fell back on my ass. I shuffled away from him on my butt, dragging my rifle with me. I shook my head. I wasn’t going to do it.

  I was so confused at this point. One thing about me is that if I make a promise, I keep it. And I’d promised that if I ever saw this man again, I wouldn’t kill him. That is, unless he was trying to kill me. He laid there in front of me, in total agony. When he wasn’t gurgling, he was holding his breath, and his eyes were squinting hard. Then he’d stop holding his breath and gasp hard. The tears streaked the dirt and blood on his cheeks.

  “Bitte,” he whispered. He was crying. “Bitte, Duglass.”

  He was going to die, there was no question about it. If I thought he would have had a chance, I would have walked out of there. But he didn’t have a chance. I sniffled and wiped snot on my sleeve. Then I wiped tears away with the back of my hand, and stood up fast. I took the few steps to him, and positioned my barrel a few inches from his face.

  “Jesus,” I whispered.

  He just nodded, and winced into a twisted smile.

  “Bitte,” he said as reassuringly as he could.

  I took a deep breath, held it, closed my eyes, and fired. I never looked at the body. I turned and walked to the opposite side of the room and sat in the corner, bawling.

  Sure enough, a couple of minutes later, I heard that Oklahoma drawl.

  “Mack, you in there?” called Tinpan.

  “Yeah!” I yelled, but I know I sounded upset. Tin picked up on it.

  “Mack, are you in trouble in there?” Tin yelled real loud now. He was going to attract more from the platoon. I didn’t want them seeing me like this.

  “Everything’s fine, I’m coming!” I yelled. I wiped away the tears as best I could, scrambled to my feet, and walked out of the building, stepping over the body in the doorway. Tin and I locked eyes. I had to look a mess. He gave me a quizzical look. I just shook my head and waved down the street, indicating we need to get going.

  That night, I could tell some of the guys were worried about me. We had kind of a code of conduct when one of us was down. We’d walk by and ask something simple like “You need anything?” or just “OK?” A couple of the fellas did that, and I told them I was all right, just didn’t want to talk. That was okay in Buzz Company. We couldn’t stay up all the time. We all had our down times. And that was one of my worst down times during the war.

  Chapter 15 - Dissension

  We kept pushing east for the next four or five weeks, occasionally engaging in combat. The stress wasn’t as intense as the Normandy campaign. We were still sharp, but we encountered fewer casualties, and the krauts were on the run. They were easier to fight.

  You remember that first story I told you? About Chartelli saving the day at the bridge? After that fight, we got a few days of R&R in some town close by. As the platoons assembled to leave, Jerry Donovan and Petey were staring each other down. Donovan was one of the replacements from the Fresh Meat gang who arrived with Stankowski.

  They were eyeballing each other real hard, standing maybe six inches apart, not moving at all.

  “What’s going on here?” asked Lou Robinson. He was a freckled kid out of Pittsburgh. I always remember him because he lost his right pinkie in battle later in Belgium. Didn’t blink an eye—wrapped it and kept fighting. He was a tough kid, despite gaining the nickname Pinky.

  They didn’t say a word. They just stared at each other nose-to-nose.

  We all heard Lou, so we gathered around. Petey and I always had each other’s back, and this looked like trouble. But it was one on one, so I wasn’t going to get in the middle.

  They stood there, frozen, for maybe five minutes. People all around would ask what was happening, and neither one of them would answer. And they wouldn’t move. It was a mystery to us.

  Cap walked up and saw that something was going on. “Ten-hut!” he yelled. We all snapped to attention. All of us, except Petey and Donovan.

  “As you were,” said Cap as he walked right up to Petey and Donovan.

  “What’s going on here, boys?”

  Silence, again.

  Cap pursed his lips and sucked on his teeth, making a little squeaking sound. “If you boys have an issue here, we’re going to resolve it right now. Or else you’re going to get your asses to work.”

  Donovan talked through clenched teeth. “You gonna tell him, or am I?”

  “It wasn’t me,” said Petey.

  “You’re a fucking liar. Ed Brady and me both seen you.”

  “Seen him what?” asked Cap.

  “He raped a girl,” said Donovan.

  I was stunned! And I was pissed that someone could possibly accuse Petey of something like that. I stepped forward. “That’s bullshit!” I blurted out.

  Petey and Donovan started grabbing and shoving each other. Cap got in the middle of them, and a bunch of guys pulled them apart. They were both yelling at each other, cussing and threatening.

  “What happened?” asked Cap.

  “Me and Brady had been in the tavern. We were heading back for bed last night. We heard a scream, so we went to check it out. We saw a girl getting raped in an alley.”

  “Then what happened?” asked Cap.

  “We yelled, saying we were gonna kick the guy’s ass. Anderson stood up real quick, then took off running down the alley. We stopped to help the girl. She didn’t speak any English, so we escorted her to her family’s house. Christ, I bet she was only sixteen.”

  “Petey, this true?” asked Cap.

  “Nope.”

  “That’s bullshit,” said Donovan. “Brady and me both seen him. Brady will tell you. And we know where the girl lives.”

  Cap stood there, rubbing his chin. He looked around the room. “Pavelchek. Find Brady, get him in here now.”

  “This is bullshit, Cap,” said Petey. “I wasn’t even out last night. Besides, if it was an alley, how could they see? It’s darker than shit in alleys here.”

  Cap turned to Donovan. “How could you tell it was Petey in a dark alley?”

  “Cap, we been together for months. We’ve faced death together, we’ve walked for a couple hundred miles, we’ve all slept and ate together. I can spot every member of this platoon. We all can.”

  Cap nodded. “Petey, anyone here that can prove you didn’t go out last night?”

  “Yeah,” said Pete. “Me and Mack were playing cards all night.”

  I snapped my head toward Pete. He was lying.

  “That true, Mack?” asked Cap.

  I stared at Pete. I couldn’t say anything. Our eyes met, and I saw the truth in those eyes. Not only was he lying, he really did rape that girl. Now he was not only guilty of a crime, but he was sucking me into it as well.

  His eyes narrowed as he stared back. He was begging me to lie for him. In those few split seconds I fought with myself. This man had saved my li
fe! We were brothers. We loved each other. Thick and thin. That’s what we always said. Have each other’s back through thick and thin.

  “Uhh...” I started to say, trying to figure out what to do.

  “Mack wasn’t with him,” said Trumbull. “Mack can’t lie for shit.” Trumbull could read everyone.

  “I wasn’t going to try to lie,” I said. “I just can’t believe... Jesus, Pete! Why?” I had tears in my eyes.

  When Petey saw my reaction, he teared up too. “I’m sorry, Mack. I’m sorry! Cap, I did it. Mack didn’t have anything to do with it. I was hoping he’d cover for me.”

  “So, you did it?” asked Cap.

  Pete looked down, nodded. “I was drunk. We were having a good time. I thought she wanted to. Then after we started... Well, she started screaming like hell. I think it was a trap to get a GI in trouble.”

  “So you didn’t force yourself on her?” asked Cap.

  Petey shook his head, still looking down. Cap squinted at Petey for what felt like a minute of silence, then looked over at Trumbull. Trumbull shook his head.

  “Anderson, I think you’re lying to me.”

  Petey looked up, and a tear trickled down one cheek. “Cap, please. I didn’t rape her. We were both interested.”

  Cap took a deep breath. “We’re not going to leave now until morning. I’m going to talk to Brady, and the girl. Anderson, you are restricted to this camp until told otherwise.”

  The story didn’t turn out well. Brady confirmed that he thought it was Pete in the alley. When they found the girl, the left side of her face was bruised up real bad, and there were fingertip bruises on her throat. I saw her. She limped too. Someone had roughed her up. Petey insisted that the whole thing was consensual. He said she didn’t have any bruises when he was with her, and she was setting him up. Cap set up a lineup of five men from the platoon, all about the same size. When the girl came in, she got real emotional when she identified Pete. She broke down bawling, and had to be helped away. Her mother screamed and spit at Petey. She had to be held back by a couple of men.

  Cap had orders, and we had to keep moving. He took statements from all three men, and with the help of a translator, he took the girl’s statement. Then he made me make a statement about not being with Petey that night. Cap was going to wait until we got to our next field HQ to figure out how to handle it. In the meantime, we had to keep moving.

  There was a stain on Buzz Company now. We all used to talk about how we were fighting the good fight. We considered ourselves heroes. Even with Gunderson, and then Cunningham’s odd behavior, we were there to beat the Nazis. I thought we were above the dark side of human nature. But Petey proved we weren’t. Yeah, he was drunk, but even so, it never should have happened. He wasn’t the man I thought he was, and I wanted nothing to do with him. Ever again. Even though I would be dead if it wasn’t for him.

  I wasn’t alone. The whole platoon avoided Pete. When we would pair up, his partners wouldn’t talk to him, unless it was required for the job at hand.

  Two days later, we got into nasty fight in another village. We got through it with minimal casualties. We didn’t lose anyone, just had one guy take a flesh wound in the shoulder. So we were all feeling pretty good about ourselves when we turned in that night. Petey had taken to sleeping away from the rest of the men, because it was icy as hell when he tried to hang out with us. That night we slept on the floor in a tavern in the village. I noticed that Petey laid down early, up against a wall toward the back of the room. I was glad, because I didn’t want to have to talk to him.

  In the middle of the night, I awoke to the sound of a raspy breath.

  “Mack?” It was Petey.

  “What?” I said with the harshest tone I could muster. I didn’t want to be around him, and I sure as hell wasn’t happy he woke me up in the middle of the night.

  “Can you call Thumper for me?” he gasped. “I’m nearly dead.”

  I twisted my head around to look at him, trying to focus my sleepy eyes in the darkness, but they wouldn’t lock on to him. It was too dark. I could just hear him breathing real hard. And I could tell by his straining voice that something really was wrong.

  I rolled over and stood up, feeling my way to a lamp on the wall. I flicked it on. There was a chorus of grumbles as some of the men rolled away from the light, covering their heads. Then I looked down at Petey. He was lying on the floor, holding his side. Between his bedroll and mine, for some fifteen feet, was a swath of blood, showing where he had dragged himself to me.

  “Jesus!” I yelled. “Medic!”

  A bunch of the guys reacted, jumping up and grabbing their weapons. I ran to Pete. I pulled his blood-soaked hand away from his body. He was gut-shot.

  “Fuck!” I said. I put his hand back on the wound, and then interlaced my fingers with his and pushed hard. “Get a goddamn medic! NOW!” I yelled.

  “Bunyan went to get a medic,” someone said.

  Petey grinned through a wince. “It don’t matter, Mack. It’s too late for that. I just want Thumper.”

  Thumper was Ted Phillips. He was real religious. That type of person who pushes his religion on everyone around him.

  “I’m here,” said Thumper.

  “Thumper, can God give me forgiveness?”

  “Yeah, Petey. Sure. God forgives everyone if they accept Jesus Christ.”

  There was a pause as Petey swallowed and gasped a few short breaths.

  “How do I go about doing that?”

  “Well, I don’t know,” said Thumper.

  Petey shook his head in exasperation. “Come on, man. I thought you knew all this God stuff.”

  Thumper looked up at the ring of men surrounding Petey. He shrugged, and made a face indicating he didn’t know what to do.

  “Get your Bible.” Cap pushed his way through the circle of men. “Find the best passage you can on salvation. Do it fast.”

  Thumper ran to his pack.

  “Mack?” said Petey.

  “Yeah, Pete, what is it?”

  “I need you to know something. I raped that girl. I did it.”

  No one said anything.

  “But I want you to know it wasn’t ME that did it, Mack. This war turned me into something I ain’t. I never lied before. I never broke any laws. And I sure as hell wouldn’t hurt a girl like that. It was the worst moment in my life. I’m a fucking monster. This place turned me into a fucking monster. I just want to be like I was back home.”

  “Pete, you ain’t a monster. Listen to me! We got a medic coming, and we’ll get you patched up. We’ll get through this!”

  “I don’t blame you for hating me for it. I do too. I just want you to know that I never would have let you down. I never would have deserted you in battle. I would always be there for you, just like back when we were pinned down with them missiles.”

  “I know, Pete. I’ll always be there for you too. I’m sorry I treated you cold.”

  He shook his head. “Just tell the men that for me, will ya?” He couldn’t see that everyone was standing around him.

  I looked up at the men. They were all nodding, most with tears in their eyes.

  “I’ll tell ’em, Pete. But tell ’em yourself in the morning.”

  His eyes started to roll and he was having trouble staying awake. “Just... get... Thumper.”

  Thumper slid in next to Pete’s head, and read some passage out of the Bible. I didn’t hear it. I just squeezed Pete’s hand real hard and pushed on that wound. I’d be damned if he was going to die like this.

  Thumper got through his verse, and the medic came running in. Just as he started working on the wound, Petey died.

  As near as we could figure, Pete had taken a shot during the fight with the krauts that day. He didn’t tell anyone. We think he wanted to die—the gut shot was bad, but if he’d had it treated, he probably could have survived. So he spent his last few hours in agony, torturing himself, knowing he was killing himself. Some said it was self-inflicted. But I
think if that were true, he would have blown his own head off. I’d bet money that he stood up during the battle to expose himself to German gunfire.

  Chapter 16 - A Bad Day

  Petey’s downfall threw Buzz Company into an even worse funk. None of us could understand it. He was a genuinely good man. How could he fall apart like that? Who was next? Would it happen to all of us? There were no longer any jokes, no gallows humor. That was how we had survived up until now—we would pull little pranks on each other, or tell jokes, or rib each other while we traded money in card games. We’d find something to take our minds off the threat of death, and our lost men. But now we were all quiet. Grim. Businesslike.

  Battle was light for us as we made our way Northeast. In early December, all of Buzz Company was assigned to take a French outpost that the krauts had occupied. They were putting up resistance as we slowly pushed them back to Germany. It turns out that the outpost was a large fort. It was part of the Maginot Line. Tinpan called it the Vaginot Line. It had been ineffective in stopping the Germans when they invaded France, and we hoped it would be just as ineffective for the Germans as we tried to take the fortress from them.

  But the damn place was a group of bunkers, all connected by tunnels. We were to take it so we could use it as a base. So we couldn’t destroy it. No tanks. This was going to be infantry work.

  I’m always tickled when people say they had a bad day. As we prepared for battle, a nasty bug hit the Ninth. Vomiting, diarrhea, flu-like systems. Over half the men, including me, had it. Cap considered postponing the attack. We all begged him to postpone it. Well, those of us who were in the discussion. Half of the men were hitting the latrine at any given time.

  “Boys, it’s not up to me. All of Buzz is going to hit that fortress,” said Cap.

  “Cap, you ain’t got this bug,” said Morelli. “I can’t go a half hour without taking a shit.”

  Cap stroked his chin and pursed his lips, thinking for a few minutes. Then he nodded. “The Ninth will set up in a defensive position, let the rest of Buzz take the offensive. Too risky for us. You men are more pathetic than normal.” He winked.