Behavior Report 13

Dearest Love,

All is well. I’m not in any pain or anything. In fact, you could say that I’ve found peace. The ravages of Krauts and running around and experiencing death almost everywhere took its toll, but I’ve come out of it stronger. I don’t feel like a weight is resting on my neck and shoulders anymore. Please don’t misunderstand, I’m still sad. I still mourn the loss of everyone, but they are at rest in a safe place. I almost feel free. I can focus my efforts to finding Earl and fulfilling the promises for all the loved ones left behind.

My last letter left off in quite a spot. Sorry. I haven’t had the time to write because of what has happened since that moment. I’ve traveled far, further than I could have ever imagined. But before I get to that, allow me to catch you up.

If you recall, I was running from The Unforgiveable Savage and the beast he tamed that I now know is called a Jagdpanzer. They cornered me on the second floor of a building in a small village called Le Perir, which was meant to have people my platoon was supposed to liberate.

I was standing at the window when the monster belched an explosive that hit the wall below me. Flames shot up from underneath me and a concussive blast rocked the floor. I dropped through the floor, passing through orange and red flames, and slid along the floorboard until I landed on my feet on the first floor. Stones and mortar and shards of wood were everywhere. The Kraut’s cots and things were ripped apart and crushed. A massive hole burned behind me. I felt as if I had fallen into Hell.

Fortunately, smoke protected me from view of The Unforgiveable Savage and his beast. I could hear them yelling and laughing. And then I heard the unmistakable sound of them loading another round into the canon. It sounded like a rock being dropped into a pond.

Lieutenant Talbott yelled from within the smoke and flames, “Run to the door. Get out of here before they fire again!”

I followed his orders and left the building through the front door. Now I can write about how odd that sounds. The building was in pieces and on fire and I left it by opening the front door as if I was leaving a cocktail party. On the trail that went through the village, I encountered all the boys from my squad, lined up and pointing me in the direction I should go.

“Get to the car.”

“Run!”

“The car is your only way out.”

From behind, I heard the beast’s engine roar to life. Its tracks squealed and charged toward the building until a massive crunch shook the stone walls. Dust plumed out from the sides.

“The tank is coming through the building!” George yelled. “Run, you fool!”

Before I could take a step, the beast belched out another explosion. The ordinance shot through the stone wall behind me and flew into the air for some distance before exploding like a cloudy firework. All sorts of debris clanked on my helmet. My ears rung. Somewhere between all the noises, The Unforgiveable Savage yelled and laughed and urged the monster forward.

“C’mon, Frank! Run!” The boys shouted and pointed me toward the Kraut car.

I ran to the carriage house and closed its large door behind me to give me as much time as I could get from hiding. I slide off my pack, tossed it into the passenger side of the Kraut car and hopped in. I stepped on the clutch and pushed the button to start the engine. The first attempt sent the engine into a churning cough that failed to turn over. A second attempt did the same. On the third attempt, the engine cranked quickly at the start, but began to slow down the longer I held the button. The battery was dying. I stopped. I wanted to curse, but instead, I took in a deep breath.

“Keep your head on straight,” I whispered.

When a battery was low on juice back home, I remembered that we would let it sit and build up its charge. With a little time, there may be enough to turn over the engine and get it moving. However, there would be only one last chance, and if it failed, I would be in a jam. I needed to be patient and wait for enough of a charge to build up.

Troha appeared in the seat next to me. “If the battery won’t start it, you could try cranking it.” He said in his mumbled way between clenched teeth.

“How do I do that?”

“There might be a crank in the engine compartment. Would look like a piece of bent metal.”

An enormous crash exploded outside. “What was that?” I said. “That wasn’t a shot by that cannon. Was it?”

I looked up for Troha, but he was gone.

Then I heard The Unforgivable Savage screaming.

George appeared at the back of the car. “I’ll bet that building you ran through collapsed! I bet that tank crashed through the wood floor!”

“That gives you a little time. Get out and get to the engine in the back,” Lieutenant Talbott added.

The engine on the Kraut car was in the back. Directly in the center was a belt that had a wheel that appeared to have a pin or something where a handle could be attached. I searched around the engine compartment for anything that looked like a crank, but my search grew impatient when I heard the monster screaming.

‘Did it get out?’ I wondered.

The roar moved closer.

‘It did.’

I shut the cover and ran back to the driver’s seat. From inside the carriage house, the monster’s growl appeared to be moving all around the village. Sometimes the monster sounded as if it was in front and then the very next moment it appeared to come from the back. The Unforgiveable Savage’s voice magically moved as well. All I could do was breathe and wait for the moment when it felt right to try starting the Kraut car again and drive away. I needed more time. I needed more patience.

“You, uh, might want to check on the gas,” Emil said. “You don’t want to, uh, drive away without, uh, any gas.”

I hopped out again and grabbed one of the gas cans. There were no funnels to be found, so I proceeded to make a major mess. Fuel splashed on the car more than into its tank. I managed to keep any from getting on me, but for every drop of fuel that made it inside the tank, ten drops soaked the soil beneath the car. Fuel bubbled up like a fountain when the tank was full. A single spark would light up the entire place like a box of dynamite with the mess I made. I put the gas can in the back seat along with another one that felt full, with the idea that I could always refill the car once I got away.

Back in the car, I hovered my finger over the starter again, holding back from pushing it until I felt enough time elapsed to give the battery enough juice. Several minutes passed with the monster growling this way and that like a dog sniffing out its prey. I sat alone in the shadows of the closed space like a rabbit in its burrow. There were moments when it seemed like all hope was lost and the monster was practically on top of me, but they would fade off for a time. The Unforgiveable Savage worried me more. He moved stealthily. My only protection from him was the glowing seam of sunlight lined along the base of the doors. At times when he passed, his shadow blocked the light. I was sure to point my rifle in his direction. Were the doors to open, I was prepared to surprise him with a bullet or eight.

My Love, I may have waited minutes or hours. Either way, my life felt like time stopped. I found the courage to try the starter again when the monster seemed to be far away. The engine hesitantly cranked once, then twice, and then just clicked. I tried again. I felt like a drummer in a swing band holding the clutch down with one foot, tapping the gas with the other, pushing the ignition, and drumming the steering wheel hoping to will the car to start. No combination of beats could make the engine dance. The battery was dead. My head dropped. I breathed deeply a few times and tried to think of another possible way out.

Wait until night?

Sneak out when they sounded the furthest away?

The monster roared again from far away. I could tell that the driver had given her full steam to run. I sat up, mouth agape, hoping to understand just where the monster was headed by using every ounce of my hearing. The monster’s snarling grew louder and louder and even louder.

They were behind me.

A terrible idea flooded my head. ‘Are they’re charging the carriage house!’

“Go!” George appeared in the seat next to me and yelled. “Try it again. Try it again!”

The other boys appeared as well. Some in the back. Some along the sides. Everyone yelled, “Try it again!”

I slammed my feet on the pedals and pressed the starter. The engine cranked slowly like a dying man coughing from consumption.

“Try it again!”

Bits of something tapped against the wooden boards behind me. The beast’s roar grew unbearably loud. The back wall of the carriage house broke apart as the monster burst in. Its front bumped into the back of the Kraut car, jolting everything, and pushing me forward. I hit my head on the steering wheel. The boys disappeared. We inched forward from the push of the tank. Closer and closer we came to the carriage house doors that were still closed.

I heard a yell from inside the beast. The driver saw me.

I stepped onto the clutch to make the car move easier to the will of the monster.

Then, I heard that unmistakable sound of a rock being dropped into water. There was no time to react. The cannon fired. The shell didn’t explode, but shot through the doors, bursting them open. The tank picked up speed and pushed me out of the carriage house.

My ears rung as if a miniature bell ringer decided to call the village to mass in my head. But, between the ringing and the squealing and the exhaust congealing into a massive wall of noise, I found the clarity of mind to think of Troha. I felt my mind pull back from the action and the noise to a peaceful place where I could focus on what I needed to do.

My Love, I always thought of Courage as a being that held you up or brushed you off to face danger, but it’s not. Courage is a mindset. Courage is clarity in the face of adversity. As I write this, I can smile and say that I finally found Courage in that moment in the carriage house.  

“Throw her into gear.” Troha yelled over the growling monster. “She may startup!”

I shifted the Kraut car into gear.

The monster pushed harder. The driver inside screamed louder.

Amidst all the noise, I heard a pop from the Kraut car’s exhaust and then another.

“She’s starting!” Troha whooped excitedly. “She’s starting!”

I floored the gas and eased off the clutch, bolting the car ahead. George and Troha and several other boys appeared in the seats surrounding me. I felt them all patting my shoulders. I turned hard to the west and began driving toward the forest. Suddenly, my windshield cracked with a small hole followed by another hole shortly after. Then a spark sprung up along the metal of the door to my left.

From within the circular frame of the mirror, I saw The Unforgivable Savage pointing a rifle at me. Short blasts flashed from the muzzle followed by a clunk somewhere on the car. I leaned over for cover and drove half-blind until I plunged into the forest.

The Kraut car could really move with my foot stamped on the gas pedal. I kept looking in every direction thinking that I’d find a hidden army of Krauts waiting to kill me. I couldn’t shake the fear that The Unforgiveable Savage embodied.

‘He’s going to catch up somehow,’ I kept thinking. ‘He’ll appear on a motorcycle or a car or, heck, on his own two feet.’

In my search for danger, I missed seeing a large muddy dip in the path. The mud grabbed the front tires and kinked them to the left. The Kraut car whipped around in a full circle. Green leaves and branches blurred together like wet paint being spun on a canvas. Rocks clicked against the steel wheel hubs. Bits of broken glass shook off the windshield and shattered on the floorboards. The tires scratched and scraped on the earth with a high-pitched radio static sound. I could only hang on and wait for the spinning to end.

I didn’t panic. I just hung on and waited. The boys were gone.

When everything stopped, I found myself facing the same direction I was going but my helmet was off center, my pack had somehow found its way on my lap, and my rifle was thrown to the floor. I caught my breath. The car did too. Its poor engine sputtered when we finally stopped.

“Don’t cut out on me now,” I said. “You’re still good. Take it easy.” I rubbed the steering wheel like a pet. Between the spurts and putts and coughs, the Kraut car sounded like a black Labrador that played too hard. Several deep breaths of my own were needed. By the fourth or fifth breath, the engine was back to running steady and so was I.

I slammed on the gas again and turned off the trail and into the forest. Saplings and tall weeds thumped a message against the front of the car. Had I known Morse code, I probably would have heard the brush to say, “Give up” or “You fool.” I swerved back and forth to avoid larger trees and excessively wet spots. I was impressed with the Kraut car. There were a few times when I hit something big that sent the car into the air. Yet, it kept going.

Maybe an hour passed followed by another and I kept on driving. The forest was massive because I didn’t cross any villages or paths or farm fields. Trees went on infinitely, supported by brush and grass and piles of leaves. Birds of all colors and sizes watched me drive by. Some flew off in fear, the braver ones remained perched. I didn’t see any other wildlife, but then again, the engine likely scared off anything nearby.

I passed through open spots in the forest where larger trees were sparse and dense brush grew within grand yellow ribbons of sunlight. To see where I drove, I had to half stand up and peer over the windshield. The saplings and thickets thumped against the front bumper. Sticks and leaves splashed up the hood and against my face.

In the middle of one of these open spots, I slowed down and stopped. I stood up and looked over the brush for any signs of Krauts. To be on the safe side, I killed the engine to also listen for any small arms fire or tanks or anything that would be dangerous for a single soldier. The wood was completely still.

Chirping and whistling birds sang from above. Their choruses layered on top of one another to create both a pristine and chaotic work of music never to be heard of again.

“What’s the plan, Frank?” Lieutenant Talbott said while appearing through the brush.

I began to answer and stopped.

“You don’t have one, do you.”

I smiled. “Kind of hard to come up with one when running from a tank.”

“I hope your plan isn’t to go back to the shore.”

“Why? I was thinking that I could tell them about you. They’d come and give you all a proper burial.” I sat down.

Lieutenant Talbott walked over and leaned on the passenger door. “I appreciate the thought, but if you do that, do you think you’ll be able to fulfill those promises?” He pointed to my pack. “Let’s think about this. Reason would tell me that you’re likely going to be stuck once you get to the shore. Intelligence is going to interview you. The Brass is going to hound you on specifics. And before you know it, you’ll be on a truck driving to replace some other soldier in another platoon to fight another day.”

“Really? That can’t be true.”

“Why wouldn’t it? They need numbers, bodies. If you go to the shore, you won’t be given any opportunity to do anything with the letters.”

I imagined myself back at the shore, stuck in a tent, struggling to tell my side of the story without sounding like an absolute coward.

“Don’t forget about Earl too,” Lieutenant Talbott continued. “He’s still out there, somewhere.”

A sour feeling gurgled in my stomach.

“Frank, we’re already dead. None of us are going to know if we’re in a grave or not. Our families and friends need closure. We need you.”

I got out of the car and looked around. Sunlight fell all over my body in one big warm hug. Yellow flowers, that looked like daisies, wavered around the tall stalks from a gentle breeze. They must have numbered in the thousands.

I took a swig from my canteen and thought. ‘Thousands of flowers that all look the same. If I go and pluck one from the field, would the field look different?’ My hand touched one gently. ‘The field will remain. The winds will still blow. None of the other flowers will even notice.’

I turned in the direction I came from and the forest had already covered my tracks.

‘I am forgettable to the world. My presence is like a passing breeze to everything I touch.’

“You are unforgettable to me,” Lieutenant Talbott said. “The families and friends of everyone in our squad will never forget you if you fulfill those promises.”

“No enemy to fear. No troops movements. No orders to follow. I can make my own way.” I turned back to Lieutenant Talbott and smiled.

I found that everyone in the squad was now standing behind him and smiling.

“Orders received, sir.”