basement.”
I stood beneath a stone archway and watched as Stump and Louie ushered their men into buildings along the perimeter. Flint’s squad entered next, and he paused to watch Kaz and Evans behind him, scanning the hills through binoculars, watching for movements or the telltale reflection of the sun off a pair of German binoculars.
“Have a nice chat with the kid brother, Billy?” Flint asked.
“Yeah. Never expected to run into him here,” I said as I fell in with him.
“You just happened to be in the neighborhood?” Flint’s eyes darted over his men, up to the hills, and to the nearest building. It was small but well built, and covered the entrance to the village. He signaled for his squad to enter.
“I took a little detour. I figured the army is one thing, family is another. You have any brothers?”
“Yeah. My older brother died at Pearl Harbor. I joined up the next day. Got a younger brother myself, he’s training to be a fighter pilot.”
“Sorry to hear it,” I said. “That must have been tough.”
“It was. Got everyone riled up, that’s for sure. I didn’t like leaving my mother and kid brother to run the ranch, but I had to get into the fight. Seemed the only thing to do.”
“You’re a cowboy?”
“You got to ride a horse to herd cattle, Billy. Guess you could say I am, West Texas born and bred.”
“This is a long way from Texas,” I said.
“You got that right. Flat like Texas, though. But cold and wet. Can’t say I like it much.”
I followed Flint into the building, which had been used for storing farm implements. A small engine, maybe from a tractor, was unassembled on a workbench. The place smelled of oil and sweat, but it was dry and had foot- thick walls. Evans glanced in and nodded at Flint, as if he approved.
“How’s your new lieutenant coping since Rusty got it?” I asked.
“You heard, huh? Damn shame. I don’t know about Evans. He hasn’t done anything stupid yet, so we’ll see.” It wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement.
“Something happen to your radioman? I haven’t seen one with Evans.”
“We don’t have a radio, and haven’t been issued a new set. Charlie kicked in the last one, so we’re short.”
“Why’d he do that?”
“Charlie drinks. A lot. Not often, but when he does, look out. You know how they say Indians can’t hold their liquor? Well, no one ever told Charlie. He can drink more than any man I ever met. Stays pretty sober too, on the outside at least. Then he gets to a point where all his meanness comes out, and no matter who you are, best stay out of his way. He’s big, strong, and a mean drunk. Took a swing at Landry once.”
“And he wasn’t court-martialed?”
“Nope. Besides being a mean drunk, Charlie’s a damn good soldier. Landry had the MPs lock him up, and it took a pile of them to do it. After the booze wore off, he was all apologetic, and Landry let it pass. Next time, he smashed the radio instead of an officer. I guess Landry knew this little tea party was coming up, and didn’t want to lose him.”
“Lucky for Danny he didn’t.”
“Yeah. But if Charlie finds a wine cellar, he’ll drink it dry, and then Danny boy better not be in the vicinity. Word of warning, pal.” Flint unslung his musette bag and tossed it on the workbench. It fell with a heavy clunk, and the snout of a German pistol poked out where the strap wasn’t secured.
“Souvenir?”
“Walther P38,” Flint said. “I bought it off Louie after he nailed that Kraut.”
“This is the pistol Gates was killed with?”
“It is. It was Louie’s by rights, but he didn’t want it. I figure if I can get to the rear somebody’ll give me good money for it. How about you, Lieutenant?”
“No thanks,” I said, but I couldn’t stop myself from taking the automatic and feeling the heft of it. The Walther was easy to hold, the reddish-brown grip molded to fit the hand. The peppery smell of gunpowder still lingered over the steel, and I wondered again how Rusty had been caught unawares. “Louie didn’t say anything about shooting the German.”
“He was pretty upset about the whole thing,” Flint said. “We all were.”
“Billy,” Kaz said from the doorway. “They want us to take two of the wounded back to the aid station. The ambulance is full.”
“Okay. Sarge, good luck with the pistol. Maybe try Major Arnold in personnel. I hear he pays top dollar,” I said, watching Flint’s eyes. No surprise, no flicker of awareness.
“If I get that far back to the rear, I’ll have sold it already, but thanks.”
The field ambulance had taken the badly wounded already, and the medics were bandaging the last two GIs when we got back to the jeep. Stump was being patched up as well, a medic winding gauze around his forearm.
“Shrapnel nicked me,” he said. “Didn’t even feel it until I saw the blood.”
“Bad luck,” I said. “A little worse and you might have been sent home.”
“And miss this escorted tour of beautiful Italy? No way. You takin’ those guys back? They ain’t banged up too bad.”
“Yeah. You’re not going?”
“I’d be embarrassed with this scratch. Make sure they fix ’em up and get ’em right back to us. I got a feeling we’re going to need every man pretty soon.”
“It’s a long way from Bar Raffaele, isn’t it?”
“You got that right, Billy. Paying too much to drink rotgut wine in the sunshine has got it all over this. Them Krauts are gonna keep shelling us until we take those hills up there. All Inzerillo ever did was overcharge us.”
“What about that fight, the one Landry and Flint had to pay damages for? What happened? I never heard the whole story.”
“I dunno,” Stump said, his voice low. “I got a dose of the clap there, you know what I mean? The docs gave me shots and I was out of circulation for a while. Don’t spread it around, okay?”
“My lips are sealed,” I said. “Any word about replacements?” I asked, thinking that venereal disease made a good motive, for roughing up Inzerillo, at least. Or a good excuse to pretend ignorance. Either way, I wasn’t getting anywhere.
“Arnold wouldn’t bother to tell us if he had a boatload. Not his style. He only comes around scrounging souvenirs, got a real sideline going for himself. Replacements either show up or they don’t.”
“That’s good to know. I’ve got a nice SS dagger stashed away.”
“Well, see Arnold, he’s always buying. I hear he ships the stuff home, got a pal who sells it off. You think rear area guys pay top dollar? It’s civilians and 4-Fs who shell out the real dough. Arnold’s smart, I give him that. You see him, tell him we need some experienced men, or he might get a Tiger tank for a souvenir, complete with crew.”
“Lieutenant?” a medic called to me. “These guys are ready to go.”
I wished Stump well and promised him I’d deliver the message to Arnold if I saw him, which I knew was one helluva long shot. The two wounded managed to stay upright as we drove them to battalion aid, where they joined a long line of the walking wounded. German artillery had had a busy day. So had we.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
It was easy to get back to the twin towns of Anzio and Nettuno. All we had to do was follow the pillars of smoke. The Luftwaffe had been back, going after transports anchored offshore and the buildup of supplies off the beach. Anzio had been hit hard, first by our own bombardment and now by German bombs. There was even more destruction now than when we’d driven off the beach. I maneuvered the jeep around rubble and burning vehicles, waiting as ambulances barreled by. Everyone seemed to be glancing up, watching for the next wave of attacking aircraft. Near the center of town, a row of houses had been hit, leaving nothing standing but the front facades,
