A chill ran through me, and I looked around to see if Dottie had heard, relieved that she was talking and laughing with a couple of men at the end of the line. I decided to not tell her that news and said a silent prayer for Joe Brandon.
One soldier announced to the line that it was thirteen below zero outside, and a few others groaned and told him to put a sock in it, just as the mess hall exploded under a rain of deafening artillery shells.
Two soldiers fell down, killed right in front of me, one a young man from Connecticut that I had served only seconds before. My ears rang once more from the shells and the screams. I grabbed Viv’s and Dottie’s hands, and we ran out of the mess hall to find shelter. We ended up underneath the Cheyenne because there wasn’t anywhere else remotely safe nearby. There was a whiteout, and the Germans continued to shell the camp as the three of us lay flat on our stomachs in the snow and mud under our truck.
I spotted Major Jones in the chaos but knew it would be potential suicide to run out to him in the middle of the attack. After about a half hour, the shelling stopped, and we gingerly crawled out from under the truck, keeping our heads down.
Major Jones was a couple hundred feet away, huddled in front of the command post tent, talking with a group of officers.
“Girls, I’m going to go talk to him,” I said.
I ran through the snow and heard Viv call out, “Good luck,” behind me.
“Major! Sir,” I said, jogging up to him. “Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to ask you something. I’ll keep it brief.”
“Where is your damn helmet?” he asked, nodding to the men around him to give us a minute.
“I’m sorry, I ran when the mess hall exploded and forgot to grab it,” I said. “Sir, any chance of us getting out of here in the Clubmobile soon? Any road openings?”
“How well do you drive?” he said, crossing his arms and looking me up and down, as if he could judge my driving skills just by looking at me.
“Better than I used to,” I said, wiping the wetness off my face. “I’m good actually. Really good.”
He studied me for a few more seconds and then said, “We might have a two-hour window this evening, thanks to the Belgian underground and the 101st Airborne. You’re going to have to drive faster than you ever have in that thing, with just the cat eyes. The weather is supposed to clear, but the roads will be tough. A colonel and his GI driver that just arrived from another division are leaving tonight if they can; you can follow them out. You up for it?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “I promised I’d get my friends out, and we have Christmas mail for hundreds of soldiers to deliver.”
“All right,” he said with a sigh. “It’s my fault that you three ended up here in the first place. The least I can do is help you get back to your group safely.”
“Thank you,” I said. “We’ll be ready.”
“Honestly? You girls surprised me—you’re braver than I thought.” He gave me a small smile and a look of something like pride. “Now go tell your friends the plan and get your truck ready to go.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
We were living amid relentless sounds of explosions, ack-ack, and flashing from the fighting that still surrounded us. Once we recovered our helmets from the mess hall, we didn’t take them off and spent the rest of the day getting our gear packed. A couple of the GIs helped us and also kept an eye out in case things got too hot and we had to take shelter.
As we started up the Cheyenne, ready to leave that evening, Major Jones showed up, carrying white camouflage jumpsuits for us. Viv was so excited about them, she completely embarrassed him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
It was dusk, and the snow had mercifully stopped. The sky was clear, and the stars came out of hiding for the first time I could remember since we’d arrived in Belgium.
“All right, it looks like that two-hour window is going to hold, but you’ve got to go now,” Major Jones said, looking at his watch. He gave us directions to the road on the other side of camp that we were going to take out.
“The jeep will be waiting for you there. The GI driving it is Private Jason Hoffman; he’ll be looking for you. Remember, drive fast, keep up with them, and don’t do anything foolish.”
We all thanked him and went to climb into the cab.
“Fiona,” he said, just as I was about to climb in.
“Yes?”
“Do you still have that incendiary device?”
“I do. You don’t think I’ll need it, do you?”
“Hopefully not,” he said. “But if you run into trouble, you’ve got the device—bomb the hell out of this thing. I don’t want those damn Krauts to have an ounce of petrol or coffee or anything else that might help them.”
“Okay, sir,” I said, already sweating from adrenaline and nerves.
“You should be okay,” he said, his tone not entirely convincing. “Good luck.”
It was dark, but we spotted a jeep with a trailer attached right where the major said it would be.
Private Hoffman came running over. He couldn’t have been over five feet two inches.
“We’ve got to go—Colonel Brooks is cranky as hell. You girls keep your helmets on, okay?”
“All right, soldier,” Viv said.
“You okay with this thing? Ready to drive fast?” He looked at me, bright-eyed and smiling.
“Yes, let’s get the heck out of here,” I said.
We drove in silence for a while, listening to the constant heavy roar of Allied planes overhead as I tried to concentrate on keeping up with the jeep on the narrow forest roads, still heavy with snow. The Cheyenne was not as agile as the jeep in this terrain, and I kept praying we wouldn’t get stuck. The sounds of battle echoed in the hills and valleys, and I knew we were all listening in case anything got close enough to put us in immediate danger. After about an hour, the jeep stopped ahead of us. We pulled up behind it and waited.
“What’s the holdup?” I yelled to Hoffman, who had just jumped out of the jeep to take a better look at what was in front of him. I heard him swearing.
“The goddamn bridge has been knocked out,” he said, coming over to us. “We’re going to have to take a detour; hoping it’s not too many miles out of the way.” He patted the Clubmobile door. “I know this is a beast to drive on these roads, but try to stay close.”
We drove off course for what had to be over sixteen miles, the roads more treacherous than before, and I had to slow down because I was afraid of veering off into the woods.
“We’re falling too far behind them,” Viv said.
“I know, I’m doing my best,” I answered through gritted teeth.
“I don’t see them at all now. Where are they?” Dottie asked, leaning out the window to see if she could get a glimpse.
“I’m sure we’ll catch up in a second,” I said.
The road curved, and I spotted them a quarter mile ahead.
“There they are.”
The sounds of brakes and metal screeched as the jeep crashed head-on into an enormous truck coming from the other direction.
“Oh Jesus Christ, no!” I slammed on the gas and drove as fast as I could to the scene.
The crash had knocked the jeep off the road, and it lay in a ditch, the trailer turned sideways next to it. The front end was completely smashed in.
Hoffman was pulling the colonel out of the cab with the help of the two soldiers who’d been driving the supply truck.
“He’s not conscious,” said Hoffman, pale and distraught, blood dripping down his face from a gash on his cheek and another above his eyebrow.
“Here, let’s put him in the back of the Cheyenne,” I said. “Dottie, Viv, I know it’s packed back there, but we’ve got to make room somehow.”
They ran back to make some space while I tried not to lose my footing as I helped the soldiers slowly carry the colonel back up the slippery embankment to the Cheyenne.
“I didn’t even see you coming,” Hoffman said to the soldiers, still horrified.
“Neither did we—these damn roads twist and turn, and you’re the first ones we’ve seen all night. We’re delivering supplies to the front, and we thought we were alone on this route,” the soldier said.
“So did we,” Hoffman said. He explained where we came from and our detour. “Tell me we’re close to the Allied lines?”
“Sorry, you’ve still got a ways to go,” the second soldier said.
We settled the colonel in the back of the Cheyenne on blankets, and the soldiers from the truck gave us additional first aid supplies. Hoffman stayed with him and Dottie offered to as well, also insisting on cleaning the cuts on Hoffman’s face and bandaging them up for him.
“Those are going to have to be dressed as soon as possible,” the first soldier said, pointing to the colonel’s injuries, huge open gashes that were still bleeding profusely, one above his knee and another on his shoulder. “And that knee might be broken, judging by the swelling and the deformed look of it. There are plenty of farmhouses in these woods; you’ll see the markings for the roads into them. Some are empty, some not. You might want to try to hunker down in one for at least a few hours, get him bandaged up and maybe get a little rest.”