The Last Jump: A Novel of World War II

by John E. Nevola

  “Yes, Sergeant.” Copping issued the orders. A few moments later the rest of the platoon, shrouded by a veil of rising dust, was rounding a bend in the wide trail and were soon out of sight.

  Bancroft addressed the two soldiers. “I’m this far from washing you two duds out,” he held his fingers about an inch apart. “You’ve been nothing but trouble since you got here. Every man in this company knows why they had to march tonight and they all hate your guts. Now, I’m going to make sure you don’t get back by dark and they’ll hate you even more. Probably beat the crap out of you so that you won’t be able to make the jumps.”

  Bancroft looked at Johnny. “Yank, you’re a fucking slacker,” Bancroft got right up in his face. He had a crazed, wild look in his eyes. “You look for the easy way out every chance you get. You’re a wise guy and a smart-ass and you think you’re better than everyone else but I got you figured out. You can look down on all of us but you’re just a gutless little college boy.” Bancroft paused to let his words sink in. “And Enema here wants to kill you,” Bancroft continued. “And I ought to let him do it. That would rid me of both of you.”

  Johnny refused the bait. He would not let Bancroft provoke him before jump week.

  “Enema, you’re a dumb fucker,” Bancroft shifted his attention to Jake and got nose to nose with him. “You can’t control your temper and you act without thinking. If I washed you out today I’d probably be saving your life since you’re damn sure to get yourself killed dead on your first combat jump.”

  Jake also refused to respond although every fiber of his muscular being was a nerve pulse away from tearing into Bancroft.

  Bancroft stepped back, and addressed both of them in an even tone. “My little problem is Captain Wolff is pleased with the company. He thinks we already washed out too many good ones and wants to go into jump week with what we got. He figures we’ll lose even more next week when some of your little girlfriends chicken out at the door.” Bancroft seemed to calm down a bit. “But I’d rather you quit right now,” Bancroft continued as his face screwed up in anger again. “If you quit, you see, I can’t be blamed for washing you out. Quit right now and we can all go back and the rest of the boys will all get their weekend passes. What’ll it be, girls?”

  “I’m not quitting,” Jake answered first and quickly.

  “Me neither,” Johnny said as fast as he could after Jake spoke.

  “Okay, we’ll do it your way.” Bancroft reached into his pack and pulled out a large adjustable wrench and handed it to Johnny. “About a quarter mile up this trail is a running path to the right that goes up that small hill,” Bancroft pointed as he spoke. “At the top of the path is a little clearing, a place to turn around. In the center of that clearing is a bell attached to a concrete post. Remove the nuts and bring me back the bell. And I want it and you two back before the sun sets or no passes. For anyone! Understand?”

  “We understand,” Johnny replied.

  Bancroft spun on his heels and began jogging to catch up to the platoon that was by now out of sight. That rat-bastard is in really good shape, observed Johnny.

  As soon as Bancroft was out of earshot Johnny turned to Jake and said, “Okay, Enema, let’s go.” He immediately realized his mistake.

  Jake dropped his M-1 and took off his pack. “You and me need to settle this right now.”

  “I’m sorry Jake, it just slipped out. But don’t be stupid. Look, this is what the bastard wants. If we’re at each other’s throats we’ll never make it back in time.”

  “Then you need to mind your smart-ass mouth, college boy.”

  Johnny held up both his hands in a sign of surrender. “Okay, I’m sorry. How about a truce until we get this done?”

  Jake just stared at Johnny, studying him, his face emotionless.

  Johnny broke the silence. “And if you want to continue this later when it’s just you and me and no one else is involved, I’d be happy to oblige.”

  A slight smile appeared on Jake’s face. “Oh, so you’ll give me a chance to defend my honor at a later time?” Jake asked in a mocking tone.

  “Yeah, yes. Now can we get on with this?”

  “Surely,” replied Jake as he bent down to pick up his gear. “Let’s get on with this.”

  Johnny dropped his pack and M-1 and pointed to Jake’s. “Let’s leave these here. We’ll pick them up on the way back.”

  Jake nodded and took the lead as they started off down the dirt trail looking for the running path. Johnny, wrench in hand, noticed the low angle of the sun flittering through the trees. He estimated no more than two hours of daylight left, barely enough time to get back to the barracks assuming they retrieved the bell quickly and could find their way back.

  Sweating profusely, the two men jogged for another few minutes when Jake abruptly took a sharp turn to the right. He found it! Johnny followed as they ascended a well-trodden path that led up a slight hill. Jake slowed and Johnny nearly bumped him as they came to a stop. Right before them, just as Bancroft had described, was a square concrete post standing about four feet out of the ground. On top of the post stood a brass-colored bell that hung from a cross piece so that it swung freely. The cross piece was attached to two upright stanchions that were welded to a flange that lay flat on the top of the concrete pillar. Four bolts came up from the post through the flange and attached it solidly to the pillar. Johnny looked at the area surrounding the bell and post. It was well trodden. He surmised the troops would run up the path and around the bell and probably slap it to signal that they had made it this far. There was something inscribed on the bell but before Johnny could read it, Jake snatched the wrench from his hand.

  “Let’s get to it,” he breathed heavily as he adjusted the wrench around the first bolt.

  Jake tugged mightily and the nut broke free. Repeating the same procedure for the remaining nuts, they lifted the bell off of the post. It weighed only about ten pounds but it was bulky and awkward to carry.

  The two boys retraced their steps down the path and back onto the dirt trail. They finally reached their field packs and knelt down to strap them on.

  “Jake, I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here with this bell,” Johnny gasped, emphasizing the name, as he carefully placed the bell and the wrench on the ground and fished through his field pack, “but I’d bet were doing something we’re not supposed to be doing.” He wrapped the bell in his poncho and shoved it into his pack.

  The two men worked quietly and quickly as they loaded up their gear and moved out toward the paved road, forgetting the wrench on the ground. In just a few minutes they were standing at the crossroads. Jake spoke first. “We came from that direction so we probably should go back that way,” he pointed down the wide dirt trail they had come from.

  Johnny deliberated for a moment. “He sent the other platoons off in three different directions so I figure there’s more than one way to get back. We got about two hours of hard marching ahead of us and I think we’d be better off on the paved road.” Johnny sensed a flicker of frustration in Jake’s face, as if his original suggestion was inadequate. Johnny recovered quickly. “But if you really think that’s the way to go, I’m with you.”

  Jake caught him off guard with his response. “You’re right, Yank. The paved road should be faster.”

  “The problem is we didn’t come that way so we’ll have to find our way back to the barracks area somehow.”

  “This road curves off in the same general direction we came from,” Jake answered. “We’ll figure it out. With that, both men began to quickstep down the paved road. They traveled for a time in quiet until Jake broke the silence.

  “You’re not a slacker, Johnny,” Jake surprised him again. “I’ve been in the army over a year and I never volunteer for anything either. That doesn’t mean we can’t do our job or we’d ever let our buddies down.”

  Johnny was impressed by Jake’s overture. He had to admit that Jake was making an effort to resolve their differences, even if
it was only for this challenge.

  “Look, Jake, I’m sorry about the Enema thing. Slip of the tongue. And I was a jerk way back when you offered me your hand.” Johnny felt better getting that off of his chest. He attributed his own bad behavior to the strain of jump school. “Besides,” he continued, “Bancroft doesn’t know us or what makes us tick. He’s the idiot.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Jake replied as he extended his hand. Johnny grabbed the hand heartily, shook it and they continued their speed march down the paved highway.

  They had gone a little while longer when Jake first heard the sound of the engine behind them. They turned to see a civilian pickup truck heading in their direction. They stopped and raised their hands to the driver of an old dilapidated Ford. Johnny assumed he was a civilian contractor working on some construction project. The truck stopped. Jake went to the window.

  “Evening, sir. Could we get a ride with you down this road?”

  The driver was a burly bald-headed man with a thick black beard. He seemed annoyed by the request and in a hurry to continue on his way. He spat some tobacco juice onto the pavement and looked at Jake. “We’re not supposed to pick up any of you boys, so if I might be on my way.”

  “So, you won’t give us a ride?” Johnny asked rhetorically.

  “Can’t do it,” the burly man replied. He became indignant and surly. “Orders is orders!”

  Jake swung the M-1 Garand from his shoulder. He leveled it at the driver. “In that case, we’ll just have to borrow your truck, cousin. But don’t you worry; you’ll get it back, someday.”

  “Whoa, hold on there,” the man replied. He raised his hands, began smiling and became more obliging. “Just get in back and I’ll take you down the road. But duck down if you see any military vehicles pass by.”

  “That’s more like it,” Johnny answered. “We’re going to the barracks in the Frying Pan.”

  “Yes, sir. It’s just a few hundred yards off of this road a few miles up ahead.”

  “Well, let’s get to it,” Jake smiled. “And no funny stuff,” he slapped his M-1 as if to remind the driver that the two young paratroopers were both armed and still dangerous.

  The two soldiers hopped into the bed of the truck. The driver took his time and carefully navigated the paved road. In eight minutes they traveled the same distance they would have needed about an hour to travel on foot. The truck stopped and they scampered out. The driver pointed off to his left down a trail into the woods. “Right through there, a few hundred yards is the barracks area.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Jake replied. “Have a nice day.” The driver sped off, visibly pleased to have jettisoned his perilous cargo.

  “You have ammo for that thing?” Johnny pointed to Jake’s M-1.

  “Nope.” Jake laughed. “Now let’s see if we can find our barracks.”

  The two men picked their way through the woods until they could see the trees thin out in the distance. When they reached the edge of the woods, they both recognized the area and were able to pick out their barracks. They had beaten the other platoons back by virtue of their fortuitous hijacking. They found a comfortable spot with good visibility. After a half hour of waiting, they observed the four platoons march back into the barracks area. Johnny looked out to the horizon. The full sun was just touching the mountains in the distance. It would be dark soon. He stood up and looked at Jake.

  “Well buddy, I think it’s time we deliver Bancroft’s bell.”

  As they came running into view, the waiting soldiers erupted into a chorus of cheers.

  “How the hell did you do that?” smiled Danny Peregory as they ran up the steps and into the barracks. Members of the platoon slapped them on their backs and continued cheering.

  Sergeant Bancroft was sitting at his desk in his office. He yelled out the door. “What the hell is all that ruckus about, Sergeant Copping?”

  “The Kilroys are back,” Copping answered in amazement.

  “No shit?” Bancroft was genuinely surprised. “Dismiss the rest of the company and send those two eight-balls into my office.”

  Copping complied and closed the door behind Jake and Johnny. They snapped to rigid attention.

  “Reporting as ordered, Sergeant,” Johnny managed to suppress the smile that was about to explode on his face.

  “I don’t know how you pukes managed to pull this off but I’m not nearly finished with you yet. You two are…” Bancroft stopped in mid sentence as Jake reached into Johnny’s pack, unwrapped the bell and placed it on Bancroft’s desk without saying a word.

  “What’s this?” Bancroft smiled.

  “It’s the bell you ordered us to bring back, Sergeant,” Jake replied.

  “Bell?” Bancroft said. “I have absolutely no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  Johnny thought Bancroft accepted the Kilroys victory too gracefully. He wasn’t the type to be a good loser.

  Jake looked puzzled. “You ordered us to get this bell.”

  “I did no such thing, Enema. Why would an NCO order his men to steal the property of another regiment?” Bancroft smiled again, a sinister sneer that chilled the small room. “You need to get that piece of shit out of here.”

  Suddenly Johnny realized it was a setup. “You’re right Sergeant Bancroft, our mistake.” He shot a hard stare at Jake that said follow my lead. He reached down and scooped up the bell and quickly wrapped it back in his poncho.

  “We’ll be on our way now, Sergeant,” Johnny took a step backward.

  “You’ll leave when I dismiss you,” Bancroft barked. The two men stiffened again. Bancroft paused, stood up and walked around and sat on the front of his desk. “Paratroopers are a rowdy bunch, as you know by now. Always pulling pranks and getting into trouble somehow.” Jake and Johnny were not following Bancroft’s drift. He sensed their confusion.

  “How else could you explain why the hell two jump school students, not even paratroopers yet, would steal the bell that the Five-oh-four uses to mark the midpoint of their morning run?” Bancroft had a smug look on his face. “And when the NCOs from the Oh-four find it missing, they’ll scour the barracks area looking for it. I imagine they’ll punish the thieves pretty good once they find…you.”

  Johnny suddenly got the picture. Bancroft ordered them to take the bell but there were no witnesses. When the Five-oh-four finds their bell missing, Bancroft will rat them out, if he hadn’t already done so. If the NCOs don’t mangle the Kilroys there’ll be severe discipline if not outright expulsion. Pretty insidious way to get rid of us, thought Johnny.

  Bancroft stared hard at both of them. “I’m heading out to Phenix City so I won’t be around to witness the slaughter.” He paused at the door and put on his overseas cap. “Now you’re dismissed,” he said. “And confined to the barracks.” He stepped smartly out the door.

  Johnny and Jake walked to their bunks. Jake began stripping off his pack and gear. He looked at Johnny and extended his hand. “Let me have the bell.”

  Johnny looked at the bell. The inscription said, 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment – Strike Hold. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m bringing it back. It’s our only shot. I’m not waiting here for those goons to come in and kick our ass. Bancroft probably already snitched on us.”

  “I know,” Johnny answered. “But how the hell are we going to find the place?”

  “We? You coming with me?”

  “Hell yeah, we’re in this together.” Johnny began shedding his heavy gear. “But how are we going to find that place?”

  Jake nudged Johnny. “Hey, we’re paratroopers. We’re supposed to find strange places in the dark. If we can’t do it on our own base, how the hell are we supposed to do it in some strange country with the enemy hunting us down and shooting at us?”

  “Good point. But I doubt Copping is just going to stand around and let us go.”

  “We wait for lights out, for things to quiet down and then we go.” Jake looked to Johnny
for agreement. He nodded.

  They used the few hours to recuperate in their bunks and waited for Copping to turn the lights out in the empty barracks. After another hour, the two men stuffed their gear under the blankets of their bunks. Johnny wrapped the bell in a towel and retrieved a flashlight from his footlocker. They dressed light, just their fatigues and a baseball cap. They slipped out a window and headed directly for the paved road. It was dark but the various lights in the barracks area made for decent visibility. They worked their way out of the barracks area unnoticed. The going got much slower through the woods but they were soon standing on the paved road. Thankfully, a full moon began rising in the direction they were traveling. Johnny knew they were doing the only thing they could to counteract Bancroft’s plot but still wondered how they were going to find that one secluded spot in these vast woods.

  Jake looked at his watch by the moonlight. “I figure between five and six miles based on how long it took the truck to get us back here.”

  “Right,” Johnny agreed after a moment. “Since we speed-march about six miles an hour, we need to start looking for that crossroads in about an hour.”

  “That crossroads trail and the path will still be hard to find in the dark,” Jake complained.

  “I left the damn wrench where we dropped our packs. If we can find it, that will mark the trail for us.”

  Jake nodded. “Right, Yank, good idea.” He reached for the bell. “Here, let me carry that thing for awhile.”

  Jake grabbed it by the clapper. There was no noise. They began their speed march back down the dark lonely road in silence.

  Fatigue was straining to take over the two men but the adrenaline rush averted it. The moon continued to rise and illuminated the paved road enough for them to see each crossroad as they came upon it. The problem was that there were so many of them and they all looked alike in the dim light. After the prescribed time, they began to explore up the cross trails, one after the other in turn, far enough to satisfy themselves that the bell-path was not there.