damn road. With a little luck, we might surprise them.”
Sgt. Kaelin frowned and looked at his watch. “Time’s running out, Mr. Skiffington. You are the commanding officer. You’ve got a mission to accomplish and a lot of ground to cover before you can do it. What are you going to do?” he demanded.
Skiffington pointed down the road. “That’s where the enemy is, Tuttle. We can’t kill them if we don’t fight them.” He raised his voice so everyone could hear. “Everybody on the trucks! We are moving out!”
Sgt. Kaelin sighed and shook his head. “Wrong answer, recruit.” As Skiffington blinked in confusion, Sgt. Kaelin took out a small box and pushed a button. Skiffington’s uniform began to blink fluorescent orange. “Your commanding officer had just been killed by a sniper!” Kaelin turned to Emily. “Tuttle, you are now in charge.” He looked at his watch. “You have twenty-one hours and twenty minutes left to complete your mission.” And while Emily stared at him, open mouthed, he winked at her and walked away.
Fighting back a sudden rush of panic, Emily took stock. She had ninety-four men left, seven of whom were wounded. Only thirty had food, water and extra batteries for their rifles. She quickly stripped the extra batteries from the “dead” soldiers, including the Red Company soldier who had been involved in the ambush. The soldier from Red Company had two water bottles. Emily took them both, along with four packets of field rations. The dead soldier stuck out her hand. “I’m Susan Matt,” she said. “This should be very interesting. Good luck.”
“I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me where the rest of Red Company is?” Emily asked.
Matt gestured to her blinking uniform. “Dead men tell no tales,” she intoned solemnly, then ruined it by giggling.
Emily divided the Company into five platoons. She considered who to make platoon leaders. One choice was easy: Cookie Sanchez. She took Hiram Brill by the arm and pulled him aside. “Do you want to be a platoon leader, Hiram?” she asked out of hearing of the others.
Fresh beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and the color drained from his face. “Listen, Em-Emily,” he stammered. “If you need me, I’ll do it, but I’d much rather be, you know, like you staff officer or something. I’m real good with maps and-” He paused, looking away from her. “I really don’t like making battlefield decisions,” he said miserably. He took out his notebook and held it in front of him, as if he were offering her a gift of great worth. “But I’ve got everything you need to know about everyone in Blue Company.”
Emily remembered the look on Brill’s face after he led the Blue Company victory over Green and Gold. And she recalled the brilliant analysis that allowed him to do it. She made a decision. “Okay,” she said briskly. “You are my
Brill breathe in relief. “I won’t let you down.”
“Okay, Mr. Advisor, I need four platoon leaders right now. Suggestions?”
Brill thought for a moment, his face taking on that peculiarly blank expression that she had seen before when he was concentrating intently. Cookie called it his “village idiot” look. Then, abruptly, he was back.
“Okay,” he said. “You want Kimball, Lee, Zavareei and,” he smiled grimly, “Skiffington.”
Emily considered. Rob Kimball was a tall, beanpole recruit with a shock of unkempt hair who had shown an unbridled enthusiasm for tactical exercises. What’s more, he had shown a talent for devious and cunning tactics, always doing something that caught his opponents by surprise. Sandra Lee was slow talking, calm and steady, but incredibly focused. She wasn’t afraid to take risks and Emily thought she would walk through fire if that is what it took to accomplish the mission.
“I don’t know Zavareei and Skiffington is FOF,” she said, a little more sharply than she intended. In the back of her mind a voice was screaming at her that time was running out. They had to get going!
“Kara Zavareei is a high energy type who will keep her troops motivated and moving,” Brill replied easily. “And Skiffington is ten feet behind you, looking fine. If we have to break through enemy defenses at the bridge, put his platoon out front.”
Emily turned. Grant Skiffington was standing there with a nonchalant grin, eating a ration bar. “Sergeant said I could finish the maneuver with you,” he said, explaining his rebirth. “And I hope you don’t mind if I took one of your ration bars. Haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
Her staff problem resolved, Emily took stock of logistics. The Company’s biggest problem was immediately evident. Even after the extra “ammunition” had been passed out, there were still twelve soldiers without working batteries to power their rifles. Others had only a few shots left. They had depleted their batteries at the rifle range. Emily thought furiously, then, borrowing an idea from Hiram Brill, called for the four fastest long-distance runners. When they stepped forward, she took them aside.
“We are about four miles from the camp as the crow flies, she explained. “You take the truck back up the road about a mile. That will put you closest to the camp. Leave the truck there, in case Red Company has more ambushes set up. Cut through the fields to the camp and beg, borrow or steal as many batteries as you can find. Field rations, too. Don’t load your packs too heavy, because you’ve got to catch up to us. Come back a different route and don’t go near the truck. If the enemy sees it, they’ll stake it out.”
She showed them on the map which route she intended to take, and gave them one of the radios, along with code words in case Red or Green Companies were listening in on Blue’s designated channel.
As soon as the runners had left, she assembled the Company. “Listen up, everybody!” she said loudly, conscious that her soft voice did not carry well. To her ear she sounded ten years old. She held up the map. “We are marching cross-country, skirting this big swamp and these hills. Maybe twenty miles or a little more. It is rough country and it will be slow going, but we should make it to Killarney Bridge in plenty of time. The key is stealth. If we can get there unseen, we’ll have a huge advantage. Red and Green will have some patrols out, but I am betting that most of their forces are tied up either defending the bridge or setting up ambushes along the river road.” Emily paused to take a breath. The troops in Blue Company watched her intently.
“I’ve sent runners for more food and ammo. With luck they’ll catch up to us in four or five hours. For now, everyone get a drink of water and have something to eat. If you are carrying a water bottle, share it with someone who doesn’t have one. Fill it every time we pass a stream. We leave in ten minutes.”
Emily called together the platoon commanders and Brill spread his map out on the ground. She pointed a hill directly overlooking Killarney Bridge. “I am calling this hill ‘Sunflower.’ If I were Red and Green, I would have people up there with binoculars. It gives a good view of the river road and some view of this area as well. We are going to have to stay in woods and dead ground until sunset. The enemy will certainly have occupied it. If we are to attack the bridge, we are going to have to take that hill first.”
They discussed the best route, finally decided on skirting between the two swamps, then entering a large ravine that ran close to Sunflower. Emily sent out flankers and scouts, armed with binoculars and radios. She warned them to stay off the radio except in extreme emergency. She tried to reach Gold Company without success. As the rest of Blue Company moved out, Emily checked her watch. The Gold Company convoy had to be at Four Corners in less than twenty-one hours.
The day was hot. Much hotter than she had expected. Water was going to be a problem. They crossed two small, dusty stream beds before they reached the gap between the swamps. Even the swamps had retreated under the summer sun, leaving vast sheets of hard-caked mud. Everyone was sweating and they were rapidly going through what little water they had. The Company slipped through the gap between the two swamps, then turned north. Well off to the east, they could see the hill Emily dubbed “Butterfly,” beyond which would be the river road. She tried to reach Gold Company again; still no luck. Somewhere ahead of them was Sunflower and the Killarney Bridge.
Five hours later, as they crept through a stand of pine trees, one of the scouts ran back to them, flushed and breathless, to report an enemy patrol less than a mile away, crossing the open ground in front of the forest.
“We can take them out!” Skiffington said. “We can lay an ambush and they’ll never know what hit them.” He looked thrilled at the prospect of a fight.
Emily shook her head. “Our target is the bridge. As long as they don’t know where we are, we’ve got a chance. One radio call from this patrol and they would swarm all over us.”
They sat and waited for ninety minutes until the patrol left the area. Skiffington grumbled and chaffed at the inaction. Emily was glad of the rest. The water was almost gone and many in Blue Company were painfully thirsty. They had at least ten more miles in front of them and she wasn’t sure all of them would make it.
Then they caught a lucky break. While they were waiting, the four runners sent to fetch supplies caught up to
