“I had to get better,” Cole said. “We’re about to launch another attack. You need me around to make sure you don’t get your ass shot off.”
“Shot off? Well, that’s a relief. For a while there, I was worried that I was going to freeze my ass off.”
Having agreed to a temporary truce, the two sides met on the road leading to the village. The snowy, ice-covered surface of the road had been packed as hard as asphalt by the passage of trucks and tanks. Cold wind blew through the valley, carrying a few flakes of snow. With sunset approaching, the sun dipped low toward the surrounding mountains, tinging the sky in yellow and purple tones, like a brilliant bruise.
The approaching sunset left Cole feeling wistful. Considering that the fight for the town would begin before first light tomorrow morning, it was unsettling to think about who might not be around to see the next evening’s sunset.
Looking over the Germans, he recalled General Patton’s words, “No bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country.”
Cole hefted the submachine gun draped across his chest, eager to help those other poor dumb bastards do their part. Cole was armed to the teeth. Along with the submachine gun, his rifle was slung within easy reach over his shoulder. He wore a .45 in a side holster. His wicked-looking Bowie knife, custom made for him by his old friend Hollis Bailey, was stuck in his belt, Indian-fighter style.
“Keep your eyes open, son,” Colonel Allen had muttered to Cole, somewhat unnecessarily. “I wouldn’t trust these Kraut bastards as far as I could throw them.”
To Cole’s surprise, it was clear that the colonel was nervous about this meeting. “Yes, sir.”
The group going to parlay with the enemy consisted of the colonel, Lieutenant Mulholland, a medic, and Cole. Only Cole was armed. Mulholland carried a white rag tied to a stick, which made him look vaguely silly.
Of course, an entire company of GIs was ready to open up at long range with their M-1 rifles if the need should arise. But if that happened, there was a good chance that the colonel and all the rest would already be dead.
Similarly, by prior agreement, the German officers coming to meet them were not armed — with the exception of their pistols, Cole noticed. The pistols were tucked away into holders with a leather flap — not exactly a quick-draw weapon.
What was surprising was that the Germans had brought a civilian with them.
“What the hell?” the colonel said. “Is that a nun?”
Sure enough, a Catholic nun had accompanied the Germans to the parlay. Cole was struck by the fact that the nun was quite pretty, her youthful face framed by the nun’s habit she wore.
Cole wasn’t the only one was staring. With an effort, he flicked his eyes away from the nun to focus his attention on the one German who, like Cole himself, had come armed to this meeting. Like Cole, the man carried a submachine gun and a rifle. The German’s rifle also had a telescopic sight. Another sniper, then.
Perhaps it shouldn’t have been too surprising that the German officer had also chosen a sniper as a sort of bodyguard. In both armies, the snipers were not only the best all-around shots, but also the men who tended to be coolest under pressure. They wouldn’t lose control and start shooting. And if they did have to shoot, they weren’t going to miss.
As the other man came closer, Cole studied him. The details of the German’s face became more evident.
Cole felt a current of shock go through him. He knew this man. It was the same sniper whom Cole had fought against at Ville sur Moselle. His presence here verified that Cole hadn’t killed him, after all — that was a disappointment. This sniper had been a real bastard, murdering some villagers who had decided to play soldier. Their deaths had been cruel and unnecessary.
The enemy sniper seemed to recognize Cole as well. His eyes widened when he got a good look at Cole’s face. But after that first glimmer of surprise, a smile played across his thick lips.
Quickly, the officers made brief introductions. The German officer saved the sniper for last. “That is Hauer. We call him The Butcher.”
Colonel Allen nodded in Cole’s direction. “That’s Cole. We call him Hillbilly.”
While the officers got on with the negotiations, Cole and the enemy sniper settled into trying to stare one another down, fingers resting gently on the triggers of their submachine guns.
The officers got down to brass tacks. No mention of surrender was made by either side.
“I understand that you are holding American prisoners in the village,” Colonel Allen began.
“This is correct,” the German officer responded. “Two hundred and fifty-two to be exact. Well, two hundred and fifty-one. I believe one died this morning. If I were you, Colonel, I would avoid using any heavy weapons against this village, or there may be even fewer prisoners.”
The colonel bristled. “Is that a threat?”
“No, only a commentary on your poor aim. If a stray shell hits the church, you are the one responsible.”
“You could let them go.”
“Come now, Colonel,” the German remarked, as if the American officer had just said something mildly amusing. “If you were in my shoes, would you let your prisoners go?”
“It was worth a try, I suppose.”
The German turned to the nun, who had remained quiet, watching the exchange between the two men. “This is Sister Anne Marie. She has expressed special concern for the prisoners and has been caring for them. She can tell you what supplies are needed for them.”
“Thank you, Sister,” the colonel said. “How are the prisoners doing?”
Clearing her throat, the young nun spoke up. “They are doing as well as can be expected,” she said. “However, some of them are wounded and need medical attention. They are hungry. I asked Colonel Lang for supplies, but he said that he had none to spare.”
The German shrugged. “That is the truth. Anyhow, I have allowed the nun to help your men as best she can.”
“Listen, what I want to do is send supplies to those prisoners. I’ve got blankets and rations ready. Corporal Gregory here is a medic who volunteered to go back with you and see to their medical needs.”
The German acknowledged the medic with a nod. “Corporal Gregory, you are a brave man. Come back with us, then. No harm will come to you. Is that all, Colonel?”
“That is all. Thank you.”
The two officers saluted. No mention of surrender had been made by either side.
The German sniper edged closer and to Cole’s surprise whispered in heavily accented English, “I will see you later, Hillbilly.”
Then the two groups went their separate ways, boots crunching on the snow-packed road. The medic went with the Germans, hauling a sled that was loaded with supplies. Cole noticed that the nun was the only one who wasn’t wearing heavy winter gear or footwear. Cole thought she must be freezing, but she had not complained.
Out of earshot of the enemy soldiers, Colonel Allen remarked, “I think that went well. Best we could expect, under the circumstances. I just hope some of those supplies make it to our boys and that I didn’t just hand over all that food to the Krauts.”
As the German entourage returned to the village, Colonel Lang strode purposefully, forcing the others to keep up. Hauer practically trotted along beside him.
“Hauer, I thought you and that American sniper were going to shoot one another back there. Did you see the look he gave you?”
“He is nothing to worry about.”
“You don’t think so? Ha! If the Americans had another two hundred like him instead of those clerks in the church, we would not be the ones holding this village. The war would have been over already.”