The afternoon sun burned warm and pleasant as a French maiden's touch, but Chip Saunders' mood did not match the sweet mid-Spring day. Mission after mission had left their mark upon the young squad leader; the smug sergeant of before D-day was gone forever. He sat listlessly underneath the blossoming branches of an apple tree, smoking a cigarette in a futile effort to forget the last patrol he had just accomplished. Finishing the K ration, Saunders tossed the butt into the bushes and absently covered it with a few leaves. Too bad he could not just cover up the past two years right along with the remains of the Lucky Strike. Those ashes, those sights and screams of death
would stay with him until he breathed his final breath of life.

    Kirby, Caje, Billy, Littlejohn, and Doc sat lazily beside of the dusty road enjoying the rest and each other's company. They all knew that Lt. Hanley would arrive at any moment with more orders and they were taking full advantage of the brief inaction.

    "Hey Caje, " Kirby reached over Littlejohn's head to poke his buddy on the shoulder, "Why is the Sarge sitting off all by himself down there? You'd think that he was afraid of us or something." He pointed to the spot where Saunders was sitting against a tall tree.  "I don't know, Kirby. Maybe he's ashamed to be seen in public with you." Caje grinned and slapped the BAR man back.

     "Na, that's not the reason. You know what I mean, Caje. The Sarge never acted this way before and I, for one, don't like it one bit!" Kirby snorted at his friend's stupidity and turned around to loosen his bootlaces.

    "Better not get too comfortable, Kirby," Doc drawled, "The Lieutenant's comin' up the road right now." Kirby made an annoyed facial expression and grabbed a firm hand on his BAR. An army jeep so familiar to the squad pulled up and Lt. Gilbert Hanley stepped carefully out. The tall officer walked over to the relaxing men and gave a friendly smile as they stood respectfully to their feet. Caje reached Hanley first; the two pairs of eyes locked as the private gave his superior the usual combat casual salute. "What's up, sir?" Caje asked this question knowing well what the answer would be. The dark officer sighed and eyed the man wearily. "You know full well what is up, Caje. I have orders from company." The soldiers of King Company formed a tight circle around their commander to hear the latest demands given by Allied Headquarters.

    The long string of commands never came. That cocky 200-watt smile slowly crept from the corner of Hanley's mouth, filling his entire face with its radiance. The veterans stood gaping, their mouths wide open in evident amazement. Why, in the name of humanity, was the lieutenant grinning about sending them into harm's way? What could be humorous in the least in the middle of this conflict for survival? Hanley's next five words explained everything. The single sentence crashed into each man's private world and turned it upside down in a single instant. "Men, the war is over."

    A strangled cry of shock escaped from Saunders' lips and he leaped to his feet. The noncom thought that he had seen it all during the past few months, but this was far beyond anything he had ever seen up to this point. With a cheer of exultation, Chip Saunders' organized group of soldiers had grabbed the unsuspecting Lt. Hanley!

    Caje, Kirby, Billy, and Littlejohn tightly grasped their CO and bodily carried him to the small river that stood nested in the forest. Uttering a shout of pure joy, they tossed the lieutenant headfirst into the water. Even the gigantic splash made by the falling Hanley could not cover up the great roar of laughter that followed it. The lanky American stumbled out of the river, his uniform completely soaked and his hair plastered to his forehead by the water that cascaded down his face. The happy grin, revealing those perfect white teeth, still shone upon the
officer.  "Sorry about that, Lieutenant. It's just one of those things we've always wanted to do, sir." Caje shrugged his shoulders and smiled sympathetically at his comrade. Hanley's deep rumble of laughter was the only answer given to the cheering bunch.

    "What's going on here, Kirby? What have you done?" The party turned around to see Saunders jogging toward them, his face filled with concern and flushed with anger.  "Now let's be fair about this, men," Hanley sneered and gestured toward the screaming noncom. "Does he get what I got or do I have to do it myself?" Encouraged by their leader's spirit, Kirby and Caje moved over to the seething sergeant.  "C'mon, "Kirby snickered, "Let's show the Sarge our gratitude!" Hefting the short, blond commander over their heads, the five men hauled Saunders to the riverbank where Hanley had been thrown earlier.  Chip Saunders peered down at the muddy water. Were they all Section 8? Surely they wouldn't... "Have fun, Sarge!" Doc gave a good-natured chuckle. "C'mon, Saunders, follow your lieutenant into battle!" Hanley called out gleefully.  Splash!

Squad Leader Sergeant Saunders flew through the air and hit the water full force. He came up sputtering, choking, and every bit as wet as his superior. The rest of the men jumped into the river and began drenching one another like small school children on a holiday. On instinct, the NCO reached for his fallen weapon that had been discarded in the excitement. A firm, gentle hand clutched his friends smaller one.  "No, my sergeant, "Hanley whispered almost tenderly, " You won't ever need to pick that up again." His sincerity was quickly covered up with a short laugh. "Unless you want to start another war anytime soon, " he added with a twinkle in his eye, "And if you do, my friend, I'm afraid that I won't be around to help you."

Two Days Later

    Class A uniforms, razors, soap, and after-shave lotion had replaced the field jackets, stubble, grime, and sweat of King Company's troops. Survivors of war gathered once again in a reverse transition of soldier back to civilian again. Stark terror in the eyes of GIs transformed into proud warriors boasting of battlefield glory under fire. Songs of friendship, tears of gratitude, and fond memories of old buddies resurrected from the tomb of destruction. It was London all over again with one major change. Before the Normandy invasion, the frivolity of the recruits had been over shadowed by a sense of impending doom. Now there was only love to look forward to. That and the long awaited for boat back home. The ship rocked peacefully in the harbor and provided the squad with the perfect background for good-byes. Buddies that felt a bond more sacred than brotherhood faced one another for the final farewell. The men had decided to travel back to the States in groups of two. Billy and Littlejohn, Caje and Kirby, and Saunders with Hanley completed the list. Doc would miss them all, but he was so anxious to get to Arkansas that he persuaded them to go on without him. The image of separation confronted the advancing former
squad. A moment of hushed quiet fell upon the men as they each memorized the faces of the others before them to treasure for eternity.  "Lieutenant, "Kirby's voice rang out high and shaking from emotion, "Will you say it one more time?" Lt. Gil Hanley cleared his throat and gave a look of authority to his soldiers, green eyes wet with the moisture of unshed tears. "Alright men, " he ordered gruffly, "Let's go home." Arm in arm, the seven GI marched away to a new life just as bravely as they had attacked their former one.

    Saunders and Hanley walked together down the street to the home of Hanley's family. Chip had stated that he would travel to his own family only after he had seen the officer safely back with his own. Hanley was noticeably nervous as he moved forward to greet his family after such a long space of time. "Don't worry, Lieutenant, "Saunders coaxed, the use of the military title reflecting the two years of combat. "Your family will be so proud of you." They will be too, Saunders thought. The young man was tall, strong, and striking in his dress uniform, which only added to his appearance of fierce manhood. With his multiple medals, officer's bars polished and shining, and that small smile playing upon his lips, any mother would be proud to call him her own. "Gil! Gil, my son! My son is home!" A hysteric voice screamed from within the brick house before the two companions even reached the front gate. A very small woman with a smile a mile wide tumbled down the porch steps into the capable arms of her baby boy. The man stooped down to planta kiss on her wet cheek as the weeping mother cradled her son with maternal affection. The graying dark hair was pulled back into a tight bun, revealing a set of long, black eyelashes framing clear green eyes. Hanley was no longer the tough, official lieutenant. He was a homesick boy coming home to stay.

    More voices echoed from the building as the other members of the Hanley household came charging outside to greet their long lost relative. Arms embraced Gil from all sides and the tears gushed forth and mixed together in a common joy felt by all. There would be a lot of catching up to do.

    "Boys!" The deep baritone created order instantly in the noisy classroom. "I will have discipline in my classroom, " the teacher continued severely, "Even if your father is the principal of this school." "They were bothering me, Daddy!" A small girl called out from a seat in the front row.  "They keep on pulling my hair!" Her lovely eyelashes blinked innocently, but her smirk betrayed mischief.  "I will take you both to your father. You young men have some explaining to do." The middle aged history teacher stood tall and erect, slick hair perfectly combed in place and chin lifted high in that stubborn position so feared and admired by his pupils. "We are going to have a long talk and this will be settled once and for all. Do you read me?"

    The man's long legs allowed him to maneuver quickly to the door and push it open easily, his height looming over the two boys.  "The rest of you may continue working on your projects." The teacher called over his shoulder. The children of Mr. Hanley's American History class Room 101 resumed their studies.

    The heavy wooden door of the principal's office was pushed open from the outside and Mr. Hanley led the two children into the main room. The school principal was loved and respected by all of the children from the oldest to the youngest. He never dressed in that immaculate, regulatory manner in which Mr. Hanley often did. His light blue eyes sparkled with fun and his hair remained unkempt as any child's. Whatever their differences, the two educators held a deep respect for each other, and they would not tolerate any breach of rules during school hours.  "Principal Saunders, " Mr. Hanley winked and seated the two boys, "Your sons have been quite a handful this morning. Will you please set them straight?"

    Mr. Gilbert Hanley walked calmly out of the room. As he made his way back to his students, he could hear the distinctive sounds of a Saunders PPT being given to more helpless victims. "Two more souls are being guided and directed out of danger." He muttered to himself, smiling as broadly as ever. "Sergeant Saunders, what in the world would I ever do without you?"

    And then the schoolteacher from Cleveland, Ohio whistled a line of "Roll Me Over" and rejoined his young troops awaiting yet another Hanley intelligence briefing.