And Along Came Jake (21 page)

"I-I-I will Jake." Pvt. Birch nodded. "And y-y-you be s-sure to t-tell Ashley th-th-the same, okay b-b-buddy?"

"Edwin?" Pvt. Patterson spoke again.

"Yeah J-Jake?"

"Thanks for being my best friend––I love you buddy!"

"Y-Y-Yeah" Pvt. Birch smiled. "We h-had some g-g-good times, didn't we p-pal? I-I-I love you too J-Jake!"

"Alright boys!" SSG. Bradford said. "We're gonna run on the count of three, got it?"

The soldiers all took deep breaths, shook one another's hands, gripped their weapons tightly, and nodded their heads, signifying they were ready. "Okay!" SSG. Bradford sighed, "Here we go, in three––two––one!"

The five soldiers quickly rose from behind the mound, and began running as fast as they could across the open beach, hoping to make it to the seawall alive. They passed many soldiers both dead and alive all around them. Continuing on, they could feel and hear bullets blow past their bodies, they could also see mortar rounds falling and exploding all around them.

They must've run the first hundred yards in no time, none showed any signs of fatigue or slowing down. Nobody spoke a word, and no one looked around, they all had tunnel vision, focusing on that seawall, which was getting closer and closer by the second.

At two hundred yards, with two hundred remaining, the bullets continued to zip past them, occasionally tearing through their equipment and clothing.

As they neared three hundred yards, they could see soldiers who'd already reached the seawall; tending to the injured, cleaning the sand out of their weapons, and cheering them on.

It still seemed like eternity before they'd make it to the safety of the seawall. The mortar rounds were still exploding around them, and bullets continued to fly by. The sights and sounds around them, let them know safety was still a long way away.

SSG. Bradford couldn't have picked a better time to run. The second they left the mound, some of the heavy machine guns stopped firing, to reload and let the barrels cool.

The seawall was now only about fifty yards out, and they could hear the machine guns begin to start firing once more. It seemed they were going to live, they couldn't believe they were going to make it, when suddenly, Pvt. Glosman was hit in the leg, immediately dropping face first in the sand. Although they made a pact, the big boy from Texas turned around, ran back and effortlessly put Pvt. Glosman over his broad shoulder and continued running towards the seawall.

Pvt. Glosman repeatedly yelled at Big Tex to leave him and save himself. Just then, Big Tex was suddenly hit in his right thigh, immediately dropping to one knee. He stood back up with Pvt. Glosman still over his shoulder, and continued to run toward the seawall, with warm blood running down his leg.

He glanced over at SSG. Bradford, Pvt. Patterson and Birch who were now only twenty five yards from the seawall. He was stunned when he saw them take an almost direct hit from a mortar round, tossing all three of them in the air like rag dolls towards the seawall.

He lost them in the blast, but knew his buddies were dead, there was no way they could've survived. Nevertheless, he continued to carry his last remaining friend to the seawall, where medics immediately tended to both him and Pvt. Glosman, plugging their wounds.

"Did the others make it?" Pvt. Glosman asked Big Tex, wincing in pain while being treated for his wound.

"I don't know, Glosman." He replied, not wanting to reveal what he knew. "I lost sight of em', but I bet they're just fine. You just worry about staying alive, you hear?"

About twenty yards away, from Pvt. Glosman and Big Tex, lay Pvt. Patterson and Birch, literally thrown up against the seawall, where the other survivors gathered. Pvt. Patterson and Birch laid in the sand, side by side unaware of what just happened to them. While trying to determine the damage and condition of their wounded bodies, two medics from the Ranger battalion came to their aid and examined their injuries.

SSG. Bradford took the brunt of the mortar blast, followed by Pvt. Birch who had shrapnel wounds throughout his lower body, including a broken right femur. Pvt. Patterson, took the least amount of the impact, but still had significant injuries to his right side; a broken right forearm, and a few pieces of shrapnel in his right leg.

"Hey Jake!" Pvt. Birch called, still trying to regain composure.

"You alright, Edwin?" Pvt. Patterson instantly responded.

"Yeah, I think so." Pvt. Birch replied. "Hey Jake, I feel funny, my head hurts—and my leg too, am I missing anything?"

"Yeah Edwin, you lost something alright!" Jake said, lifting up his head, inspecting himself and his best friend.

"I knew it!" Pvt. Birch sighed. "It's my leg, ain't it? It's gone isn't it, it sure hurts like the dickens!"

Jake cracked a little smile, "It ain't your leg you lost!"

"What the heck is it then? What am I missin'?" Pvt. Birch asked again.

"You sure you wanna know Edwin?"

"Come on Jake, please tell me! What've I lost?"

"Well, the only thing I can tell you lost––is that darn stutter of yours!"

"My stu?––Hey Jake…my stutter's gone!"

"How funny" The medic chuckled, overhearing their conversation. "That mortar blast probably did something to your head; just might've knocked the stutter right out of ya!"

They both propped themselves up against the seawall, realizing they were back in the war; bullets and mortar rounds continued to crack and explode around them. It wasn't long until Pvt. Birch got Pvt. Patterson's attention.

"You see what I see, Jake?" Pvt. Birch said in a melancholy voice, pointed in the direction they were running.

"That's SSG. Bradford!" Jake exclaimed, trying to stand and go to him.

"It's no use, Private!" The medic said, as he finished dressing their wounds. "I already checked him, he's gone. SSG. Bradford's dead. He had no pulse, no sign of life, and his legs were blown completely off. He must have died on impact, probably never even knew what happened."

They all heard a massive explosion directly above them; it wasn't from the Germans, or any of them at the seawall. These were big guns, from a battleship, believed to have come from the U.S.S Texas.

Somehow it got close enough to pound the German positions from the sea. The soldiers at the seawall broke through the barbed wired and obstacles that lined it, and all uninjured and slightly injured soldiers made their way to fight the Germans face to face, and pay them back for the pain and devastation inflicted upon their fellow soldiers.

Pvt. Glosman and Big Tex joined the raid, while Pvt. Patterson and Birch were forced to stay behind due to their injuries. Although injured, Pvt. Freeman and Pvt. Glosman limped along, killing their fair share of enemy soldiers. The raid didn't last long; once they broke through, the allied forces overpowered the Germans, and it was all over relatively fast after that.

Pvt. Patterson and Pvt. Birch never fired one shot on D-day, both losing their weapon in the blast. Pvt. Patterson found an M-1 rifle close by him but it was full of sand and didn't fire. Likewise, Pvt. Birch didn't find any in working condition either.

"So much for being a great war hero." Pvt. Birch said "I wouldn't wanna be called a hero anyway, even if I did do something great. The real heroes are those men lying out there on the beach."

Pvt. Patterson and Birch sat against the seawall as the gunfire slowed from one or two shots every few minutes, until eventually no gunfire at all. They watched as the tanks and other armored vehicles began to move on the beach, heading toward Vierville.

Soldiers began to return back to the beach to tend to the wounded and identify the dead. Pvt. Glosman and Big Tex were relieved and excited to see their friends still alive.

"How y'all doing?" Big Tex asked.

"That mortar round sure did a number on us, we're banged up pretty bad." Pvt. Birch exclaimed.

"Hey Birch, what happened? Pvt. Glosman asked. "You ain't stuttering no more."

"I don't know" Pvt. Birch shrugged. "The medic said the impact from the mortar may have knocked it out of me––but to tell you the truth, my stutter's the least of my worries. All I want right now is for this darn pain in my leg to go away.

"From the looks of it, I think the two of you just might be out of this war all together." Pvt. Glosman said. "They'll probably wait until me and Big Tex's wounds heal, then send us back into action."

"Who knows Glosman, I'm sure we'll know more once we get to the hospital in England." Pvt. Patterson replied.

"Oh hey, we got some sad news––" Pvt. Birch began.

"Staff Sergeant Bradford didn't make it did he?" Big Tex interrupted.

"No, his body is right over there." Pvt. Birch shook his head, pointing to SSG. Bradford's body.

Pvt. Patterson let out a heavy sigh. "I'd get one of his dogtags, if I could get up."

Big Tex slowly limped over to SSG. Bradford's body, knelt down, and reached in his shirt. He pulled out his blood stained dogtags, and gave it a sharp tug, yanking the chain off his neck. He unbuttoned SSG. Bradford's right breast pocket and slid one of the dogtags inside, so he could later be identified. When he did this, he felt some type of paperwork, and when he removed it, he found a folded envelope addressed to 'Alyssa Bradford.'

The reality of the day's events suddenly hit Big Tex hard, and all his friends could do was watch as he sat beside Staff Sergeant Bradford's lifeless body and begin to sob uncontrollably.

"Why Sergeant? Why'd you have to die?" Big Tex yelled, as he buried his face in his hands. He picked his head up, and scanned the beach, "Why'd you all have to die?"

Then a realization come, he wasn't innocent either. He had also taken several German soldiers lives; sons, brothers, fathers, cousins, uncles and friends. Men about his age, men whose eyes he could still remember staring back at him, knowing that he was the last person they'd ever see.

"How could I have killed all those German's back there?" He wept "Why do we have war? Why…why…why?" He slowly began to break down, and rocking back and forth, crying, repeating, 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!'

He heard the sand slowly crunching behind him, as one of his fellow soldiers walked over, putting his hand on Big Tex's shoulder. The familiar voice spoke kind and gentle.

"It's alright to cry, brother." Pvt. Glosman said consoling his friend, and brother in arms. "I feel the same way. There was a German kid back there, must've only been sixteen or seventeen. He made a sudden movement with his hands, so I instinctively shot him in the chest. It was only then I realized, he was actually raising his hands to surrender. I killed that boy, Big Tex… I killed him. I still see his face; his deep blue eyes looking back at me, his fair skin and blonde hair, he was so young. I thought he was gonna shoot me, Big Tex, but I killed that boy. Right now, he's dead because of me."

"It's the fog of war, Privates!" A Sergeant from the Ranger battalion said, walking up and doing his best to console them. "What if he did have a rifle, Private? What if you hesitated? You'd be the one lying on the ground. It doesn't get any easier, I know. I killed my fair share of German's, and trust me, I see their faces every night when they haunt my dreams. Who knows, maybe our dead haunt them too? That's just the way war is. But one thing's for certain, when this war is finally over, mark my words, you'll always––always have the war within. It'll never stop, it'll be in our minds forever."

A few medics arrived with stretchers to pick up Pvt. Patterson and Pvt. Birch. They put the wounded on trucks, transporting them to an LCA, which took them to a Navy ship. The ship brought them all to England, where they'd receive treatments for injuries sustained on the beaches of Normandy. They'd stay there for the next several months at the main military hospital to recover.

—

Home Sweet Home

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It was August 1944, two months since the four soldiers were sent to the military hospital in England. The open floor was filled of wounded soldiers, many who fought on D-Day. Pvt. Patterson and Birch's beds were side by side, while Pvt. Glosman and Big Tex were across from them, allowing time to visit and talk with another.

By the end of the month, Pvt. Glosman and Big Tex had enough time heal from their bullet wounds, and were told to gather their things and rejoin their unit to be put back into action.

Before leaving, they made sure to exchange contact information with their fellow soldiers. in order to stay in touch. They said goodbye to Pvt. Patterson and Birch, who were scheduled to stay a few more months, until fully healed. The army would then send them home with a Purple Heart award, and an honorable and medical discharge.

Pvt. Glosman shook their hands, "I guess this is goodbye for now, fellas."

"Take care out there, Glosman" Pvt. Birch said "We're gonna need you back in St. Louis to help out with the Cardinals next season!"

"I'll be there!" he replied with a grin "Oh yeah!" he snapped his fingers. "I put a good word in for you to my dad in the last letter I wrote… told him you really knew your stuff, and would be good assistant coaching material, Lord knows the Cardinals need a good third base coach for a change."

"Thanks Glosman." Pvt. Birch replied "doc says I'll most likely need to use a cane for a while. He said the break in my leg was pretty bad, and would probably limit my full range of motion."

"Hey Glosman!" Pvt. Patterson called. "You stay safe out there, and don't forget to write. When you get back, look us up so we can all get together again."

"I'm way ahead of you, Patterson." he said, giving a wink and a smile. "Told my dad to get y'all season tickets––the best seats in the house!"

"I'm gonna miss you guys." Big Tex said, shaking their hands.

"You just come back alive!" Pvt. Birch said to the big Texan.

"Thanks Birch. I'll remember that the next time the bullets are flyin' past my head. It's a good thing you're headin' home pal, the next mortar round might bring back your stutter." he joked.

"Th-th-that's s-something I definitely d-don't want!" Pvt. Birch mocked, as they all laughed.

"Hey Patterson!" Big Tex reached in his bag and pulled out a folded, blood stained envelope and dogtag. "There's no guarantee I'm gonna make it through this, so here's the dogtag I got from SSG. Bradford, on the beach that day, and this is the letter to his wife I told you about. Do you think you could send it to her?"

"Sure thing Big Tex." Pvt. Patterson said "Give it here and I'll make sure she gets it. Don't worry, just be careful out there, and don't do anything stupid."

They gathered their things, and waved goodbye. Pvt. Patterson and Pvt. Birch realized this may be the last time they'd ever see their friends alive again.

They reminisced on how they met on the plane, taking them to England, and the time Pvt. Tucker, who died on the beaches of Normandy, made fun of Edwin's stutter. They chuckled remembering Big Tex grabbing and tossing him a few feet away. It made them smile knowing Pvt. Tucker made things right, and apologized to Edwin and the others, beginning a friendship. They talked about the many memories on the beaches of Normandy, and with tears, they spoke of a special man they lost that day, a man they admired, and one they'd never forget––Staff Sergeant Bradford.

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Every day at four in the afternoon, the wounded soldiers would wait in anticipation and excitement for Corporal Mendez to walk in with the mail cart, full of small boxes, care packages and letters from family and friends.

Halfway through the pile, Corporal Mendez called out "Birch" and handed Edwin a letter sent from Ashley. As mail call went on and on, Jake waited and wondered, hoping there was something in that cart addressed to him.

"Patterson!" Corporal Mendez called, as he handed him the last remaining letter in the cart.

"Thanks Corporal!" he exclaimed, closing his eyes and smelled the perfume-scented letter from his wife.

He looked over at Edwin, who already had a pen and tablet in hand, to reply to Ashley. Jake opened the letter, quickly unfolding it, and as he began to read her beautifully handwritten words, he could almost hear her sweet voice.

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Dear Jake,

Hi honey, I hope you're feeling better. I really miss you - we all miss you. Your mom stopped by today, we had dinner together and had a nice talk. She brought over some pictures of you as a baby; you were so cute with your chubby cheeks. Your mom told me that she wrote to tell you about her and James getting engaged, he's really good to her Jake, and she seems to be very happy.

As you know, after you left for Europe, I moved back in with my parents, while they were building their new house in that empty field we never use. Well, it's finally finished, and Ma and Pa moved in last week. Now I'm all alone in this big house of ours, staying busy for the most part, fixing it up the way I've always wanted it, and thinking of you.

Big Paul says hi. His health is about the same as the last letter I sent you. He doesn't get out much anymore, he mostly stays home now, but every day I go over and make him some soup or something. We talk and talk until he shoo's me away so he can rest.

Remember I was telling you about Chad and Misty? Well, they finally got married, they seem as happy as we were on our wedding day. It was all of a sudden, I think we must have started a trend, haha. Ashley's doing well; all she talks about is Edwin though, which of course makes me think of you. Then again, I'm always thinking of you Jake.

A lot has been going on within the last few weeks, Ma and I have been doing some shopping, and clearing out my old room, to put some new furniture in there…just some small things that we're probably gonna need soon. Let's see, we bought a comfortable rocking chair, a dresser with a built in changing station, tiny blankets and little clothes, a highchair, and a crib. Why did we buy all these things you ask? Well honey, how do you feel about being a daddy? That's right sweetie! We're gonna have a baby!

About a month after you left for England, I started getting symptoms, mainly morning sickness, I didn't tell you sooner, because you were so busy with training and gearing up for the big battle, so I didn't want to concern you. Then, when I found out you were coming home, I wanted to wait and tell you in person, but I just couldn't help myself, I had to tell you. I hope you're not upset with me, finding out that you're going to be a father in a letter. I just really wanted you to know.

Ma's coming over in a few minutes, we're gonna go look for some more stuff for the baby, so I need to stop writing, get ready, and address this letter, so I can mail it while we're out. I love you so much honey, and I'm so very excited and glad you're coming home soon. Please, please, please come home soon. I miss you so much, and want to hold you in my arms forever. Bye for now, my Jake.

With All My Love,

Maddie

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"Hey Edwin!" Jake called, with excitement in his voice.

"Yeah pal? Everything alright?" he replied.

"Everything's great Uncle Edwin!"

"Uncle Edwin?" he questioned, with surprise in his voice.

"Madison's pregnant, pal! She told me in this letter!"

"Wow Jake! I can't believe it! I've never been an uncle before, or a friend uncle, anyway. I'm so happy for you buddy. Do you hope it's a boy or girl?"

"I don't care, I just need to get home. I need to see Maddie."

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Rehabilitation and recovery took another three months, but Pvt. Patterson and Pvt. Birch were finally well enough to go home. Along with an honorable discharge, they were each also awarded the Purple Heart for the wounds they received on D-Day.

As the young veterans boarded the plane, heading to the United States, Jake walked on with a slight limp, while Edwin used a cane. The soldiers present on that flight were either headed home because their tour was over, they were taking leave, or like in Jake and Edwin's case, leaving due to their wounds.  Nevertheless, the flight home was very interesting, as soldiers each told their story of how they survived the war in Europe.

The plane stopped in New York to refuel, and continued to St. Louis, where Jake and Edwin would stay the night in a hotel, then board the train to Blackwater at ten the next morning.

Their families and friends knew they were headed home, but unsure exactly when. The guys were tempted to call their wives, telling them they were in St. Louis, but with the option to surprise them, they decided to hold back, collapse on their bed and go right to sleep.

Early the next morning, they decided to eat breakfast at a small diner conveniently located across the street. In their military dress uniform, they made their way to the diner, already filled with people. The atmosphere was calm and pleasant; some were locals and some travelers.

As they limped in, everyone stopped their eating conversations, and stared at the two soldiers waiting to be seated. Suddenly the patrons in the diner, including the cooks and waitresses began to clap and stand to their feet, welcoming the two wounded soldier's home, for a job well done.

Not knowing how to react, Jake and Edwin just stood, humbly nodding their heads, as one of the waitresses grabbed two menu's and showed them to a table. Once seated, the clapping ceased, allowing them to look over the menu. Jake ordered scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, water, and a cup of coffee, while Edwin wanted a ham and cheese omelet with breakfast sausage, hash browns, orange juice and coffee as well.

As they sat there sipping on their coffee waiting for their food, Patrons who were done eating, made a point to stop by their table, to shake their hand and thank them for their service; this continued the entire time.

When finished, the owner of the diner came out, squatted down by their table, and introduced himself. He thanked them for their service, and told them breakfast was on the house, the least he could do for any man willing to give his life for this great country.

The two soldiers thanked him for his hospitality, stood up and made their way to the door. As they slowly walked from the diner, they could hear people clapping and cheering them on once again. Neither of them said a word, just continued limping to the train station, waiting to board.

Once on the train, the three hour trip to Blackwater seemed never ending. They couldn't sleep, and hardly talked to one another; both in deep thought, thinking about the war, the events of D-Day, the loss of their brothers in arms, and their family and friends waiting for them in Blackwater. Their minds wondered in thought, until the scenery outside of their window began to grow familiar.

They grabbed their bags, scooted themselves to the edge of their seat and got as close to their window as possible. About a mile from the station, Jake and Edwin grabbed their bags, and stood in the center aisle, making their way to the door, and anxiously waiting for it to stop. When the train arrived, the two soldiers limped out as quickly as they could, and began making their way home.

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They decided to take the back roads, walking together for about a mile. They arrived at the perfect time of day; most everyone was busy in their shops, stores or tending to their land. It wasn't that they didn't want to be seen, they just desperately wanted to get home to their wives and families.

At the baseball diamond, they stopped, shook hands, and said their goodbyes as each went their separate way. Edwin continued in the same direction they were traveling, while Jake went through the back of the baseball field, taking the narrow path, which lead straight to the old barn on the Brierly's land.

Edwin was the first to arrive. He limped up the steps to his porch, and knocked softly on his door. He could hear Ashley's voice, letting her guest know she would be right there. She was washing dishes, and when she opened the door, she was drying her hands with one of the kitchen towels.

"Oh sweet Jesus!" she screamed, dropping the towel, and cupping her hands over her nose and mouth. "Edwin!" she yelled from the top of her lungs, jumping in his arms and smothering him with kisses. "It's you—it's really you!"

"Hi sweetness!" he said in a soothing voice. "I've missed you so much Ashley!"

As they walked inside, Edwin dropped his duffel bag and told his wife he needed to sit down, as his leg was starting to hurt. They sat side by side on the couch holding one another, kissing, crying, and talking. Ashley knew from his letters he lost his stutter on D-Day, and was pleased to finally hear it for the first time. To her, it didn't matter that he lost his stutter or not, Ashley Birch loved him unconditionally.