Rose of Anzio - Remembrance (Volume 4): a WWII Epic Love Story

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Rose of Anzio - Remembrance (Volume 4): a WWII Epic Love Story Page 15

by Alexa Kang


  Anthony circulated the photos among Dennison, Jonesy, and Beck. The insurmountable terrain of the High Vosges, a chain of mountains seventy miles long and about forty miles wide, already depressed their morale. Cloaked by dense clusters of trees and forests, the Vosges mountains served as a thickly wooded fortress for their enemy. To cross the German border, Anthony's company would have to break through this monumental barrier. An order had come for him and his company to march with their regiment to the High Vosges to a hidden location where their command believed Klaus was positioned.

  Looking at the photos, disillusion and fatigue set in on everyone's faces. This would be a repeat of Anzio, a battlefield where the enemy would have all the tactical advantages, while the Allies would suffer every pitfall in the treacherous landscape. Fox was the only one unaffected. He had been promoted to sergeant to replace Ollie, and was doing his best to take everything in stride so as not to disappoint anyone.

  "Let's move." Anthony ended the briefing with a simple command.

  For the next four days, he led his company to embark on their new journey toward the mountains. He felt wearier than ever as they trekked through the hilly farmlands of Moselle through heavy rain, fog, and wind. The muddy roads kept slowing down the tanks and mortar vehicles, forcing them to fall behind even though they were supposed to lead the way. The rising elevation, which broke the land into large hills, delayed them all further as they came closer and closer to the Vosges foothills where they began the hardest part of their climb. Anthony and his company were the first among their regiment units to come near the top.

  Close to the hilltop, a soldier slipped and fell. "Fucking mud. I should get a purple heart if I break my leg on these shitty roads."

  "Sure," his buddy laughed. "Maybe you'll fall down the mountain and break your neck, and they'll give you the Medal of Honor."

  Anthony heard them and smiled. If a soldier slipping on mud was their only casualty, he would take that any day. He relaxed somewhat. The coast seemed clear. If there had been German troops positioned at the top, they would have hurled grenades and bullets down at them already. He wondered if their streak of luck would last.

  "Captain," Jonesy said to him. "We should send up some scouts. See if the Krauts left any traps on the other side."

  Anthony gazed back down the slopes they had climbed. He estimated the distance from the top to the base to be about three hundred meters. There could be snipers or machine gun nests hiding in waiting. Chances were, the enemy had planted mines too. "Agreed. Go ahead. See if anyone wants to volunteer."

  "I'll go." Edmond, who had overheard them, volunteered at once. "I can lead them, Captain."

  Anthony and Jonesy exchanged a glance. Jonesy shrugged. Anthony surveyed their surroundings to gauge the risks. The rain had stopped. There was no concern as to visibility at the moment. On these slopes, the trees were spread out. The landscape was mostly open fields with bushes. In case of an ambush, they could probably manage and come to the scout team's rescue.

  "I can do it, Captain," Edmond said.

  Anthony knew Edmond was eager to please him. Since they had crossed paths again in the army, Edmond's admiration for him had only grown. Anthony didn't play favorites, but he did have a soft spot for Edmond. He nodded and said, "Help Sergeant Jones gather a squad."

  Eager to proceed, Edmond took off.

  "Ed," Anthony called out to him. "Be careful. Don't take any risks you don't have to."

  "Don't worry, sir. I won't." He flashed Anthony a smile.

  After the scout team left, Anthony gazed down the hill. He could see the Sherman tanks and mortar vehicles still on their way, as well as another infantry company coming up behind them. He told his radio operator, "Send a message to command and let them know we've reached the top of the hill."

  "Yes, sir."

  The men in their unit settled down for a lunch break. Anthony found a spot away from his troops. He finished his meal quickly, and tried to get a moment to rest himself. If Warren had been here, he would at least have had someone to talk to.

  "Captain! Captain!" Waving his walkie-talkie, the radio operator came running to Anthony.

  Languidly, Anthony asked, "What is it?"

  "The Krauts! They're coming up the other side of the hill! The scouts say there's a battalion of them."

  "What?" Anthony jumped to his feet. A battalion? How could this be? He didn't see any enemy troops when he surveyed the other side of the hill earlier.

  Anthony sprinted as fast as he could to the peak of the hill. The radio operator ran after him, panting and trying to catch up. Jonesy, seeing them racing in a sudden hurry, dropped his lunch and joined them.

  From the peak of the hill, they saw a swarm of Panzer tanks and German mortar cars emerging up the other side. Hundreds, maybe a thousand, of Wehrmacht soldiers were marching up toward them from below a spur. The scouts had made their way down the spur, but hadn't seen the Germans coming up the other side until it was too late. By then, the Krauts were already halfway up the hill. They hadn't spotted the scouts yet, but they were too close. The scouts had nowhere to hide.

  "Holy Mother of God," Jonesy said.

  "Jonesy!" Anthony shouted. "Get the anti-tank unit up here. Get Dennison! Get everyone up here into position." He turned to the radio operator. "Tell the scouts to come back, now! Pronto!"

  As Jonesy rushed off, the radio operator screamed into the walkie-talkie. Anthony took out his binoculars and looked down the other side of the hill. The scouts had turned back, but not fast enough. The Germans were moving faster. The gap between the scouts and German battalion narrowed.

  "Come on," Anthony muttered, urging the scouts to move. His grip on the binoculars tightened. Several of their own regiment's anti-tank vehicles had now reached the peak. Dennison had organized their company to line up in position. Jonesy ran back to Anthony and the radio operator.

  "Captain. Regiment command said you should give the signal to fire when the Germans are in range."

  Anthony checked on the scouts. They were scrambling to come back. He watched them climb. Climb for their lives. Behind them, the enemy moved closer. The Wehrmacht snipers had spotted them and had begun shooting at them. One of the scouts got hit and fell over.

  "Captain," Jonesy said, his voice low and grave. "We can't let the Krauts get any closer."

  Anthony knew that. He didn't need the reminder. Right now, their position at the top was the only advantage they had. If they let the Krauts reach the top, the Krauts would be able to shoot down the hill at the rest of their units that were still on their way. The enemy would wipe them all out.

  "Now's the only chance we got," Jonesy said. "We can smite them from here."

  Anthony took a sweeping look at the view below, searching for Edmond among the scouts. It was impossible to tell who was who down there.

  "We need to shoot, Captain," Jonesy said, his voice getting desperate.

  Horrified, the radio operator said, "But Sergeant, our guys are still down there."

  "There's no time. We can't wait."

  "They'll all be killed if we open fire."

  "Captain?"

  "Captain, no!"

  The radio signal went off. The operator answered. Meekly, he looked at Anthony. "The anti-tank unit wants to know if they should shoot."

  Anthony tensed. He stared down the hill. "Tell them to fire."

  The radio operator passed his order on over the phone. His face scrunched like he was being fed poison as he spoke.

  In no time, the American tank destroyers began their bombardment of the enemy below. Their shells struck their targets and, one by one, the Panzers flared up in flames. Clouds of black smoke burst into the air. The American anti-tank guns were holding the Germans off as more heavy weapons units made it up the hill to join them. Aware that their position was their only advantage, they fired bombs and rockets relentlessly down at the enemy. Soon, everything below was caught in a barrage of explosions. The scout team was lost in the cros
sfire.

  Lying on the ground, Anthony held on to his Tommy gun. He couldn't pull the trigger. The vision before him was a massive blur. What was he doing? Shooting at Ed?

  "Captain!" Jonesy yelled. "They're retreating!"

  Anthony felt dazed. He didn't hear him.

  "Captain! They're retreating!" Jonesy yelled again. "The Krauts are falling back! The Krauts are falling back!"

  Anthony scanned the hillside from left to right and top to bottom, hoping for any sign that Edmond and the other scouts had survived. Down below, the Germans withdrew. It had been a stroke of luck that Anthony's company had made it to the top first. The outcome would've been unthinkable if it had been the other way around.

  The American mortar vehicles and troops advanced cautiously down the hill to claim the terrain and establish perimeters. Anthony lowered his binoculars and slumped his shoulders. He looked again at the destruction across the field below. Where were his scouts?

  I can do it, Captain, Edmond's voice echoed in Anthony's ears.

  Anthony's body shook. His insides felt all torn up. He clenched his fists around his binoculars, wanting anything solid to hold on to. He felt as though he was losing the ground under him.

  Ed, it'll all be ok. We've got your six.

  Anthony squeezed his eyes shut. What were Ed's last thoughts when he looked up the hill and realized his own brothers were firing at him? What crossed his mind when he realized his own captain, his idol and his friend, had abandoned him to die?

  Ed. How could he ever face Edmond's parents if he ever made it home?

  When the battle was over, Anthony gave his report as usual to the regiment command. Command was pleased with him. With his help, they had vanquished the enemy. The American army had claimed the hill as their occupied sector, and the area was now safe. To Anthony though, none of this could make up for the void he felt for what had happened to the scouts.

  "Well done, Captain," Colonel Callahan said to him. "Could have been a disaster today. You deserve a commendation for what you’ve done."

  Anthony did not reply. He deserved nothing. An award was the last thing he wanted. He did not need a reminder of having given the order to kill his young friend. "If there's nothing else, sir."

  "You may go," Callahan said. "And, Captain, you saved a lot of lives today."

  Anthony took his leave. He found no consolation in Callahan's praise. What he really wanted to do was to hole himself up alone somewhere and let his mind go blank. He had reached his limit. He didn't want to think about the war or the military anymore.

  Outside the colonel's tent, Anthony passed by the crowds of soldiers and moving vehicles, busy establishing their base. He went toward the squad working for the graves registration unit. "Did we find any of the scouts?"

  "Yes, sir," the squad's leader said. "Everyone's accounted for."

  "Any survivors?" Anthony was afraid to ask. The squad leader shook his head. Some of the dead bodies that the graves retrievers had brought back were piled on the ground. Anthony did not see Ed's body among them, but he decided not to ask anymore. If they had found Ed's remains, he would rather not see it. He left and started toward his own tent, but changed his mind and headed toward the medical detachment unit instead.

  Inside his tent, Jesse leaned back against his bag, trying but unable to find a good way to sit upright. He pulled his blanket up over his legs. The cold ground and thin cot provided little comfort. Giving up, he took out his flashlight to reread the only letter he had ever gotten since he was deployed. He had read this letter so many times by now, he had memorized every word. Regardless, he took in each sentence carefully, searching for meanings between the lines that he might have missed. Again, the words only pierced his heart.

  You will always be in my thoughts. Wherever I am, I will always be wishing you well. — Tessa

  What good did that do?

  While he was deep in thought, Anthony pushed open the flap of his tent. "Garland."

  Anthony's voice startled him. Without giving away a hint of betrayal, Jesse folded the letter, careful not to damage it, and put it back in his inner pocket.

  "You got anything strong? And I mean strong." Anthony came in and huddled next to him.

  "For you?" He threw Anthony a surprised look. Ardley was not one who ever came to him asking for booze.

  "Yes."

  Noting the seriousness on Anthony's face, Jesse took a silver flask from his bag and passed it to Anthony. Anthony didn't even ask what it was. He took a swig. Then another. And another.

  "Whoa!" Jesse held down Anthony's arm. "Easy there. I'm not taking any responsibility if you get plastered and everyone gets killed tomorrow 'cause you're here flipping your wig."

  Ignoring him, Anthony took another mouthful. He picked up a stone and threw it down hard.

  Jesse turned his head and looked away. Earlier, after the Germans retreated, he had tried to look for the scouts, hoping against hope that some of them might have survived. What he did find, he would rather not remember.

  "When Ed first joined the company, I told him we'd look out for him. 'We've got your six,' I said to him." Anthony took a big gulp from the flask. "I lied. I dealt his death sentence."

  "Friendly fire," Jesse said. "Happens."

  "Friendly fire happens by accident. I ordered the tanks to shoot."

  "You weren't shooting at him. You were shooting at the Krauts. He was in the way."

  Anthony scoffed, "At least there'll be one thing I can be thankful for if I don't make it out of this war. I won't have to see his folks. I don't know how I'll ever show my face around his parents again."

  "Don't say things like that," Jesse snapped, surprising Anthony with his strong reaction. "Don't joke about that. What do you think would happen to Tessa if you don't make it out of this war?"

  Reminded of Tessa, Anthony looked even more guilt-ridden. "It wasn't just Ed. It's the others too. I ordered our troops to fire when the Krauts tied our own to their tank and made them their human shields. I left a wounded soldier behind for dead back in the woods. You were there. You asked me to send someone, and I refused."

  "You did what you had to."

  "Did I? I don't know what's right or wrong anymore. I don't know if I can go on. I didn't sign up for this. I didn't come here to kill our own people."

  "And if you didn't do what you did, more of us would've been killed. Don't beat yourself up over it."

  Anthony wasn't convinced. He held up the flask to drink another shot, but Jesse's first-aid bag caught his attention. "I should've signed up to be a pill roller like you. What you do, it's so...humane. The whole damn world has gone insane. You guys are the last vestiges of humanity. I envy you. I'm part of the insanity. I shoot, I maim, and I kill people. You get to patch them up, bring them back to life, and make them all better. Can I trade places with you?"

  Thum-pum. Jesse's heart flipped. "Be careful what you wish for," he said under his breath.

  Barely hearing him, Anthony continued. "You know what really infuriates me? Klaus. We weren't going to harm him. He didn't have to kill Warren. In fact, why don't the damn Krauts just give up? Why did Warren have to die? No one had to die. The Krauts can stop now."

  "It's war, Ardley." Jesse tried to console him. "If everyone gave up, we wouldn't be at war."

  Jesse's words had no effect. Anthony's mind was off on something else. "Klaus and his kind are the problem. You don't know the man like I do. He likes to play mind games. He and his kind aren't just fighting a war. They want to test us. Push us over the edge. That was why they tied our men to the Panzers. That was why Klaus killed Warren. I'm gonna get that sonofabitch if it's the last thing I do." Anthony drank the last of the alcohol in the flask and gave it back to Jesse.

  Jesse took the flask. The way Anthony was talking troubled him. "Do you know who you sound like?"

  Anthony stared at him, perplexed.

  "You sound like Harding. I'm not saying the Krauts are the good guys, but you're seeing malice w
here it doesn't exist. We're at war, Ardley. Klaus and his kind are doing whatever they have to do to save themselves, the same way we are trying save ourselves."

  "No. You don't understand," Anthony said. "I've dealt with Klaus. I've come across him face-to-face more than once. The man has no feelings. He's a cunning, fighting machine. He'll take every chance he can to inflict harm."

  "Listen to yourself. You need to get some perspective. If we're stuck in a cave again, I hope Dennison won't have to ask me to order you to stand down."

  Anthony paused. Jesse could see from Anthony's face the conflicting thoughts wrestling in his mind. "Let it go, Ardley." He slid down and pulled the blanket over himself. "Go to sleep. Don't obsess over Klaus."

  "I can't let it go. What about Warren? I owe it to Warren."

  "Hendricks is dead," Jesse said, his teeth chattering from the cold. "It doesn't make any difference to him whether you get Klaus or not. I suppose getting Klaus might make you feel better."

  "You're saying I shouldn't try to get Klaus?"

  "I didn't say that. Go ahead. Get Klaus. That's your job. Just don't think it matters to Hendricks either way."

  "I don't believe that."

  "You should. Revenge, justice. Whatever. Doesn't matter. You're taking it all too seriously. If you ask me? Do your job. Then go home." Jesse reached into his bag and pulled out a small bottle of whiskey. "You want more?"

  Anthony ignored his offer. "No. I can't agree with that." He got up off the ground. "I owe it to Warren to get the man who killed him. I won't let him die in vain," he said and left the tent.

  Jesse watched him leave.

  Ardley. Idiot.

  He scooted back into his cot and pulled the blanket higher to cover his shoulders.

  Klaus. Who cares? If he were Ardley, the only thing he would care about would be to stay alive. Going back to Tessa would be the only thing that would matter for him.

 

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