Kirby's Choice

Written by Rose Schrock (Hazelnut)

    * This story is lovingly dedicated to Mr. Jack Hogan, a true gentleman and an outstanding actor whose many talents have often been overlooked by this ungrateful writer.

    "In wartime, a friend is the one you can trust to cover your back, gently bandage your wounds, and understand the unspoken words your lips are too proud to say."

      -Rose Schrock

January 1944: France

     A single snowflake fell silently to the cold earth and was followed by several more in the same fashion, adding a glittering white hue to the headquarters of King Company. Private William G. Kirby sat on the stone steps of a building in the middle of the evacuated town doubling as Captain Jampel's command center. Kirby had been in this man's army for quite some time now, and was well established as both an excellent soldier with a Browning Automatic Rifle and a champion in the goldbricking department. The short GI from Chicago had seen more than his share of action in the last several months of combat. He had seen friends promoted, buddies die, and killed his first German long ago. But neither killing nor bucking was on Kirby’s mind at the moment. Right now he was playing a game of cards with his companions Caje and Littlejohn. It was rare for a man to get a lengthy break to just relax so the private was enjoying his time off to the fullest. Lieutenant Hanley, Sergeant Saunders, Doc Walton, and several other privates were out on a mission. Captain Jampel had allowed Kirby to remain behind because he had been winged in the left arm with a sniper's bullet during the previous battle. Caje and Littlejohn were also among the walking wounded but they did not seem to mind at all. Right now staying behind to play around seemed a heck of a lot better than running all over the forest of France to hunt down a kraut prisoner for information on the sector.

    "Hey, Kirby, scoot over a little bit. I don't want you sitting so close to me when we're betting like this." Kirby grinned wickedly as he pretended to look at Littlejohn's cards, but the larger man just grunted and moved closer to Caje.

    "Caje's right about you, Kirby. I don't want you around me either!"

    "Boy, doesn't anybody in this squad trust ol' Kirby? I thought you was my friends!"

    "Were your friends, Kirby. Didn't you learn anything in grade school? Or did you just play hooky every day?" Caje's hazel eyes twinkled in fun at his companion's expense. The dark Cajun from Louisiana had been through a lot since Omaha Beach. After his best friend's death, Paul Lemay had grown quite close to the loudmouth private from Illinois.

    "Well, I don't have ta sit here and take this from you two galoots!" Kirby leaned back against the stairway and stretched his legs.

    "Have to, Kirby!" Littlejohn and Caje chanted gleefully in unison.

    "And who made you two such experts in English, anyways? Neither one of you guys is a---"

    The approaching Captain Jampel cut Kirby’s comeback short. The three soldiers stood to there feet and gave the officer the expected respectful salute due his rank. The captain was a calm man by nature, but worry clouded his dark eyes as he looked over the friends.

    "Is something the matter, Sir?" Kirby rarely addressed a superior officer before being spoken to first, but trouble was written all over Jampel's face.

    "Yes, frankly, Private, something is the matter. I just sent Hanley out on a mission and Intelligence has just received word that a German counter-attack is coming in our direction. We need to pull back quickly and I need a volunteer to go give Hanley the message."

    "The message, Sir?"

    "Yes, that the part of the forest he is in will be crawling with krauts and he needs to abort the mission and get back ASAP." The man's weary face showed lines of premature aging. The war was taking its toll on the captain. "I don't want to end up with another lieutenant MIA or KIA right after Lt. Crowley's death."

    "I'll take Lt. Hanley the message, Sir." Kirby's statement shocked Caje, who had never seen the man volunteer for anything in his life.

    "Alright, get going, Private." Jampel eyed Kirby's wounded arm before voicing his consent. "But don't take any chances and be careful! Tell Hanley we are moving back about ten kilometers east of our original HQ. All I need now is for the squad to get lost."

    "You got it, Sir."

    "You're a good soldier, Private." Jampel patted the GI's back before jogging off to get the trucks loaded up.

    "What, what is it?" Kirby turned around to see two pairs of eyes staring at him with disbelief. "You'd think a guy never did a good deed in his entire life!"

    "Have you ever done a good deed, Kirby?"

    "Well, " The word dragged out defensively, "There's a first time for everything Caje old buddy."

                                                                             ******

     William Kirby's breath formed into a vapor from the cold as he trudged through the thickly wooded forest wishing he were anywhere in the world but where he was.

    "Maybe I shouldn't have been so eager to help out, " he muttered to himself as he brushed the snow from his field jacket. "First rule in the army: Never volunteer for nothin'."

    Kirby had offered to seek out the lieutenant for two reasons: He felt like he should do his part and he knew that Caje desperately needed some R and R. His comrade would have piped up and told Captain Jampel he would go if Kirby had not beat him to the punch. Caje always ended up with the dirty detail nobody else wanted while the others sat idle. For once in his army career, Kirby wanted to see Caje get to rest and have some peace for a change, if only for a little while. Truth be told, Private Kirby's conscience was getting the best of him and he wanted to prove that he was not as lazy as everyone else claimed him to be.

    After several hours of searching for the others without any luck, Kirby began to grow restless. He had been assured that Hanley's squad should only be a short distance away from King Company headquarters, so where the heck where they? Suddenly, Kirby heard a very feeble moan barely louder than a bird's chirp.

    "Lieutenant?" The soldier's pulse began to race as he ran forward. "Lieutenant, is that you?"

     As he entered into a sort of a clearing in the brush, William discovered why the lieutenant had not answered any of his previous calls for identification. What he saw was total chaos.

    Three German bodies drooped from two nearby trees; Kirby guessed them to be the corpses of former would be snipers. Hanley's entire patrol was also lying all over the frozen ground. A thick lump formed in Kirby throat as he examined the bodies for any signs of life. All of the young kid recruits were dead, as was Doc Walton. Tears stung the tough veteran's eyes and threatened to explode to the surface as his heart remembered the sweet young man who had become a good friend. Doc had been shy and often quiet, but always present in a crisis and ready to help any soldier in time of need. Now he would no longer be with them and it was time to move on in hopes that Saunders and Hanley were alive.

    "Goodbye, Doc. You was a good friend. I hope you're happy wherever you are." With those few words, Kirby had to let the memories go. You had to learn to forget the past or go stark raving mad. And William G. Kirby had no desire to go Section 8.

     Checking further, Kirby wanted to shout for joy when he found both of his leaders among the living. But even though the two could still be counted as living, they were both in very great pain. It did not take a trained Medic to see that they were both in very bad condition and in desperate need of medical attention. Saunders had a very deep bullet wound in the side and Hanley's chest wound was bleeding profusely. It amazed Kirby how three lonely snipers could inflict such casualties before they were also killed.

    "Sarge? Sarge, can you hear me?" Not a single sound came from the blond soldier. Kirby tried his officer.

    "Lieutenant?" The private gently slapped Hanley's stubble covered cheek. "Lieutenant, it's me, Kirby. Are you able to talk?" An anguish-filled mumble served as his only reply.

    Panic shot through Kirby as he surveyed his circumstances. Somehow, he had to get both of the men back to headquarters. But it was certain that neither Saunders nor Hanley would be able to walk and Kirby could not drag two men with two normal arms, let alone one. By the time he reached the new HQ and got back with help, it was probable that they might both be dead. The private felt sick to his stomach as he realized what his best by the book decision would be. He should take one of the wounded soldiers back with him and then get help for the one he left behind. To save one life would be better than to risk the death of two. But how would he choose? How do you choose one friend over the other, basically saying in effect that you care more for his safety? Old buried memories again invaded his mind as Kirby mulled over the possibilities and tried to make a choice. The Sarge...

    Saunders had been the closest thing to a real father or an older brother that Kirby had ever known. Sergeant Chip Saunders did not have to say anything for Kirby to know that he was the real deal. Saunders cared, prompted, and guided his men like a high school ball coach. He had saved the private's neck so many times that he lost count of the times it happened. Once, Saunders had even went out of his way to take risks and prove Kirby innocent when he was brought up for a court marshal. How could he let the Sarge down?

    And then there was Hanley...

    Kirby did not know the officer nearly as well as Saunders, but that was understandable due to their differences in rank. But even a complete fool could see that the lieutenant was a good, decent man who wanted to do right by his boys. Lt. Hanley deserved more than he got. In Kirby's opinion, the man deserved more medals, a better rank, and more experienced soldiers than the captain gave him. For a second louie he was all right, and a soldier who seemed to understand, if not sympathize, with each of his men under his command.

    With a quick glance at his watch, Kirby reached for Saunders. He had to go now, and for some unexplainable reason, the Sarge seemed to be the right decision. William told his scolding conscience that Saunders was worse off than Hanley was, but it was a lie and he deceived no one. No one, including himself. The small man pulled Saunders down the forest path with all of his muscles straining, trying his hardest not to hear Hanley's ragged breathing or think about his abnormally pale features.

    "The Sarge is just worse off. I'll come back for the lieutenant and he'll be OK."

     You were picking favorites, Kirby.

     "I was not. I was just doing my best to hurry and the Sarge is lighter." The words spoken aloud sounded ridiculous, even to himself.

    Sure, Kirby. Whatever you say.

    "You'll see. Everything will be all right. Everything will work out just fine."

                                                                   ******

    "I thought that I'd never catch up to you guys! Get the Sarge to the hospital will ya?" Kirby's jumbled sentences were panted out between deep breaths filled with gratitude and fatigue. It had taken him several hours to get back to King Company's new location and he had done it with a wounded arm and the added weight of Saunders to boot. Right now all Kirby wanted was to go off somewhere quiet and sleep for days, but that was impossible. First he had to find a Medic and go pick up Lt. Hanley.

    "So, you're finally back, Private." Captain Jampel approached the man with a smile. "Did you tell Lt. Hanley to report in to me? I haven't heard from him yet."

    "Uh, no, Captain. The lieutenant didn't come back with me, Sir." The stricken look on the officer's face made Kirby's heart sink.

    "Why not, Private? Didn't you find Hanley's patrol?"

    "Yes, Sir, I did." Kirby's voice filled with sorrow. "It was ambushed by kraut snipers."

    A long, uncomfortable silence ensued.

    "Well," said the captain, speaking at last. "Were they all killed?"

    "No, Sir, not all of them. Sergeant Saunders and Lt. Hanley were still alive."

    "Then why did you tell me Hanley's not here with you?"

    Kirby shifted awkwardly and answered, looking down at his feet.

    "Well, Sir, you see I was trying to get back fast for help and they was both wounded. I couldn't carry back both of them, so I left the lieutenant behind." Kirby's eyes pleaded for understanding.

    "I see."

    "Saunders was worse off than Hanley." The private ended lamely.

    "Well, you had better get yourself a Medic and go pick up Hanley while I still have a lieutenant. A good officer is few and far between out here." With this one last attempt at dry humor, Jampel spun around on his heels and disappeared into a near building before Kirby could give a suitable reply.

                                                                    ******

    Walking into the serene hospital, a real hospital for once, Kirby ran right into a pleasant looking young Medic. The man had a soft, reassuring smile that made the soldier feel right at home with the stranger.

    "Hi, my name's Kirby. I need a Medic to go out with me and bring back my lieutenant. He's been hit pretty badly so I need to hurry. Can you help me?"

    "You can just call me Doc, Kirby. " The man's southern drawl sounded as authentically American as apple pie. "I just got sent here to King Company today, but I'll help you out anyway I can." Doc picked up his medical bag and helmet. "OK, Kirby, let's go."

    Although this new Medic seemed as kind as Doc Walton had been, Kirby could sense a maturity that had not been a part of the previous corpsman. This man would do whatever it would take to get the job done, no matter what the cost. He was a darn nice guy and William G. Kirby liked him immensely.

    "I'll lead the way, Doc, and we'll go alone. We can get there more quickly that way."

    "Whatever you think is best, Kirby. I'm just here for the ride."

                                                                 ******

    Stomping through the forest with a new buddy proved to be more enjoyable than going all by himself. His arm wound barely hurt at all and the added company took his mind off of all his troubles.

    "So, Doc, where are you from anyway?" Making conversation with this man seemed easy. Doc was the opposite of Saunders; his life was an open book he was willing to share with anyone who showed the slightest interest in him.

    "Arkansas. My family are what you yanks might call the ''perfect southern type." My dad is a big man with a heart the size of Little Rock."

    "A real southern gentleman, huh?"

    "You bet. And you should see my younger sister Bethany. She's a real belle and so pretty she'd hurt your eyes, Kirby."

    The private grinned at this comment.

    "Hey, Doc, you think I could meet your sister after the war?"

    "No way, buddy. Bethany's engaged and her fiancé' is my best friend. His name's Eric and he joined up with the Navy. He'd bust me one right in the jaw if I let my sister meet a lady’s man like you."

    The men talked, laughed, and teased each other all the way back to the spot where Hanley had been left. When they reached the clearing, Doc's face showed his disgust at the carnage.

    "Golly, will ya look at this! I never seen so many dead bodies before in my life. Where's your lieutenant at, Kirby?"

    Doc's companion gulped hard as he gazed at a bloody bare area on the ground where Hanley had once been.

    "He's gone, Doc. He was right here."

    "What?" Doc stumbled over and looked over Kirby's shoulder. "Well, do you think he might have tried to make it back by himself after you left." The Medic's face scrunched up in thought. "There's no telling what a sick man might do."

    "No, Lt. Hanley wasn't strong enough to go anywhere. He was unconscious. Kraut's must have picked him up." The man wanted to put his head down in shame and cry. He had left a friend behind and now he was gone. There was no telling what agony the officer may be suffering while they stood around.

    "C'mon, Doc, we're going after my lieutenant."

    "But, Kirby, I'm just a Medic and you're wounded! Let's go get some help first. What if a whole squad captured him or--"

    "No, Doc, there's not enough time for that. If we wait we may never find him." Kirby's eyes fairly shined with determination. "No sir, Doc, I let Hanley down once and I'm not gonna do it ever again."

    "Alright, buddy, let's go." Doc did not ask the meaning of the private's words, and Kirby offered no explanation.

                                                                             ******

    "I didn't think we'd find them this fast." Doc whispered softly to Kirby as the two crouched down in the bushes watching the enemy unseen. It was quite obvious that the two German infantrymen had just discovered Hanley right before the Americans arrived at the clearing because they had not made it very far. The krauts were trying to drag the lieutenant along, but he was feverish and kept dragging his long legs into the ground behind him. One of the Nazi soldiers kept screaming harsh threats in German at the feeble Hanley, while the other in turn tried to comfort the American prisoner and scold his comrade. The duo finally stopped trying to force their captive along and sat underneath a tall tree to rest; the tree was right in front of the shrubs that Kirby and Doc were hiding behind, giving them a perfect view of the situation.

    "What are we gonna do, Kirby? Your lieutenant needs a hospital right now, and those two krauts can't help him much." Doc squinted at the fairer of the two Germans. "And to tell ya the truth, Kirby, I don't think that one kraut even wants Hanley to get medical aid. I think it would suit him just fine if your officer would die on the spot."

    "I know, Doc, I know. I'm thinking about what to do and I'll let you know when I get a plan. Just follow my lead."

     Remorse again pricked into Kirby's chest as he realized the pain he could have spared Hanley if he had only refused to desert him. That was the way it was in a war; a man had to make a hasty decision and then he spent the rest of his days regretting it, no matter what the outcome.  But then, the Sarge would be with the Germans right now, wouldn't he? Sometimes it was so difficult to tell what was right and wrong between all the grey areas. But William knew one thing for sure: he was not going to just let the enemy have Hanley that easily without a fight. If they really thought second lieutenant Hanley of King Company was that important of a POW then they would have to take him over Kirby's dead body. There was no way on earth Kirby was going to go through the rest of his life wondering what had happened to his friend. If there was even one chance in a million that he could save the lieutenant and make amends for his shortcomings, Kirby was going to give it a try.

    "Get up, Leutnant!" The blond German guard ordered harshly, but the officer only clutched his chest and moaned, oblivious to his captors or his surroundings. The kraut's face showcased his frustration and tried to pull the officer up to his feet by his jacket collar. The cloth ripped and Hanley crumpled to the ground, leaving the German holding the torn cloth. The darker German tried to calm down his companion, but he would not listen. The soldier slapped Hanley on the side of his face and then kicked him in the ribs. The already bleeding lieutenant screamed out in agony and doubled over in pain, clutching his wounds in a vain attempt to stop the throbbing in his body.

    "GET UP, LEUTNANT!'' When Gil Hanley did not move fast enough to suit him, the Nazi grasped him by the shoulders and pushed him forward, but nothing was accomplished by this show of brute force. The lanky officer stumbled about two feet and collapsed, falling flat on his face into a shrub.

    "He is through." stated the unfeeling German. With that simple sentence, he condemned the American to death. He pointed his weapon at the hurting prisoner and prepared to put him out of his misery.

    "NO!" Uttering a battle cry of defiance, Kirby jumped up from his place of concealment and opened fire with his BAR. The enemy was taken completely by surprise, and they both fell dead without a sound. The light haired German died still holding the gun he had pointed at Hanley.

    "Boy, Kirby, you sure do move fast! Those Germans never even had the chance to know what hit 'em!" Doc reached down to examine Hanley. "All I can say is that I want you around to protect me more often."

    "Aw, forget it, Doc. Just help me get the lieutenant back to company, OK?"

    "OK, Kirby, OK."

                                                              ******

                                                 King Company: Four Days Later

  "Lieutenant? Sarge? Are you two awake?" Kirby and Caje crept into the clean hospital and walked toward their friend's bedsides. Kirby noticed that Saunders was looking fresher than he had in days wearing a new army issue uniform and with a clean- shaven  face. The noncom was sitting up in his bed, blue eyes twinkling with contentment and mischief. Hanley also looked much better, although his usual 200 -whatt smile was a little more crooked than usual and lacked some of its previous luster.

    "Yeah, we're both up, Caje. The lieutenant and I were just enjoying some good hot food from a lovely nurse, weren't we, Lieutenant?"

    "We sure were. If you men saw some of these army nurses, you would wish that you were the ones wounded."

    "I already do, Lieutenant." Kirby sat down on Hanley's bed mattress while Caje chatted away with Saunders, filling him in on the latest news on the squad. William took a deep breath and looked straight at his officer, forcing himself to gaze into those piercing Hanley eyes. The clear green depths that always seemed to see right through him into his very soul. Kirby had been carrying his load of guilt around for too long, and he wanted to get it out in the open and over with.

    "I want to thank you, Private, for saving my life and bringing me back to company." Hanley's gratitude stopped the private short. How much did the officer remember? Had Hanley been out of his head until the very end or did his friend know all about the betrayal? Hanley's emerald eyes held no malice. Kirby supposed he did not know a thing about what William had been made to do by his circumstances.

    "Lieutenant, I --uh, You're welcome, Sir." For some strange reason, Kirby could just not tell his superior and figured he never would. Hanley might never forgive him if he found out, anyway. It would be better just to leave those ghosts in the past where only Kirby could remember them.

    "Hey, Kirby, the Sarge says he's feeling so much better that he might desert those nurses and come back to our squad." Caje's declaration shocked Kirby out of his thoughts and forced him back to reality.

    "You don't wanna do that, Sarge. You gotta stay here and give the lieutenant some competition, right, Sir?"

    "Absolutely right, Kirby." Gil winked at Kirby with a broad smile forming on his lips. "I wouldn't want to get left behind all by myself."

    Something in Hanley's words revealed to William that the officer did indeed know everything. He knew everything and was willing to forgive and yes, maybe even forget what had happened. Only time would tell.

    "Don't worry, Lieutenant. I'll see to it that you're never left alone." The two men shared a secret look that left the other two soldiers out. "Again." Kirby finished quietly.

    Saunders and Caje look bewildered, but the lieutenant laughed heartily. And the pain was gone. Kirby felt like a new man who had just dropped a load from his shoulders. A good friend who forgives and understands is hard to find, William Kirby grinned privately to himself.  This camaraderie was destined to last longer than a bottle of good French wine.

    "I'll get you a drink, Lieutenant."

    "OK, Kirby, that would be just fine."

                                                             ******

Story copyright by Rose Schrock

All rights reserved.

March 16, 2001