Seeing the lieutenant's discomfort, Bannon put his official company commander's face back on. "You are going to the 2nd Platoon. The man you are replacing was a damned good lieutenant who was killed three days ago. I hope you have better luck. Your platoon sergeant is Sergeant First Class Hebrock. He's been running the platoon since Lieutenant McAlister was killed. Your only hope of surviving is to listen to what that man has to say. I don't know how much time we have before we move out again. You have a lot to learn and not much time, so don't waste any. Is that clear?" Taken aback by this cheerless how-do-you-do, Avery simply replied, "Yes, sir," and waited for the next shock.
"Bob, we'll finish this up later during the evening meal. I want you to take the lieutenant down to 2nd Platoon and turn him over to Sergeant Hebrock. Then you best get down to battalion CP and check on the replacement for our FIST track. I damned sure don't want to let battalion let that one slip. " "OK. You need anything else from battalion while I'm there?"
"Just the usual; mail, if there is such a thing."
With that, Uleski got up, gathered up his notebook and map and took off at a fast pace.
"Come on, Avery, this way. "
Avery glanced at the XO, turned back to Bannon, gave him a quick salute, then gathered up his gear and took off at a trot to catch up to Uleski who was already thirty meters away.
Somehow, Avery had expected something different. His mind was already racing in an effort to figure out what was going to happen next.
It wasn't until the evening meal that Avery had a chance to talk to Gerry Garger. The whole afternoon had been one rude shock after another. The greeting from the Team commander had been warm compared to that received from the platoon. Although Randy Avery was no fool and knew not to expect open arms and warm smiles, he had at least expected a handshake. What he got instead was a reception that ranged from indifferent to almost hostile. Hebrock had been proper but short, following the same line that the Team commander had taken, "We have a lot to do and not much time, so you need to pay attention, sir. " The sir had been added almost as an afterthought. Hebrock then continued with the training under way.
Sergeant Tessman, the gunner on 21, was less than happy to see the new TC and made little effort to hide it. Even the tank was not what he had expected. Unlike the new 66, which was out of war stocks, the new 21 had belonged to another unit, had been damaged and then repaired, and reissued. Inside the turret there were still burn marks and blackened areas. The welds to repair the damage had been done quickly and crudely and had not been painted. Tessman made a special effort to show his new TC the stains where the former TC had bled all over the tank commander's seat.
Even his good friend, Gerry Garger, appeared to be standoffish. At least Gerry acknowledged him with a hello and a handshake while waiting to eat. But Gerry didn't seem interested in talking while they ate. When asked about the war so far, Garger would give simple, short answers, such as, "It's hard" or "It's not like our training at Knox." By the end of the day, Randall Avery was feeling alone and very confused.
Uleski returned with something that was almost as valuable as news that the war was over: the first letters from families in the States. The announcement that there was news from home stopped everything. Even Bannon could not hide his hopes and apprehensions. Hope that he had a letter, just one letter. Apprehension that it was not there. There was no thought of setting the example of the cool, calm, patient commander. This was too important.
When Uleski handed him his letter, he thanked God, the Postmaster General, the Division Postal Detachment, and anyone he could think of as he turned away and walked to a quiet spot. Bannon did not notice those who still stood there in silence when all the letters had been distributed. Pat and the children were safe and staying with her parents. He read that line four times before he went on. It was as if nothing else mattered. His family was safe.
After having experienced emotional highs and lows in quick succession over the past six days, the elation he felt over this news set an all-time high. Not even the ending of the war right now could have boosted him any higher. It was because of that elation that Bannon did not detect the subtle implications in Pat's language until he had read the letter for the sixth time the next day. In reading it more carefully, what she didn't tell him spoke louder than what she had written. Not all was well with her or the children. This realization dulled his joy and caused new apprehensions. Even though they were safe, something terrible had happened.
It would be weeks before Pat was able to bring herself to fully recount the story of their departure from Europe. In that time, the war rolled on, taking new and ominous turns, as wars have a tendency to do.
CHAPTER NINE
Deep Attack
After two days with Team Yankee, Avery came to realize that the cold reception he had received had not been personal. That is, he had not been the only one who had been received in that manner. All the newly assigned personnel that had been fed into the Team had received the same treatment. At first, he resented this fact. He looked at it as if it were some kind of planned initiation, and he thought that he and the others deserved better.
When he commented on this to his friend, Gerry Garger, Garger looked at him, thought about the question, and then told Avery that he had no idea what he was talking about. He told the new platoon leader that as far as he was concerned everyone in the Team got along exceptionally well. He went on to tell Avery that he was being overly sensitive and should settle down to the business at hand. Without so much as a see you later, Garger turned around and walked away from Avery.
Avery began to understand that there was a difference between the newly assigned personnel and the original members of Team Yankee when the CO authorized the tank commanders to paint "kill rings" on the gun tubes of the Team's tanks. The old German that owned the gasthaus made the suggestion that the Team should do as the German panzer troops had done in World War II: paint a ring on the tank's gun tube for every enemy tank destroyed by that crew. The idea was popular and accepted under certain conditions.
The kills had to be confirmed. Only the first sergeant, who didn't have a tank, could authorize the kill rings if, in his opinion, there were sufficient confirmation. The kill rings were to be one-inch black rings, one for each kill, painted on the gun tube just forward of the bore evacuator.
Once the kill rings had been painted on the tanks, the tank commanders and gunners went around to see who the top gun was. To Avery's surprise, it was Garger. His 31 tank had eleven rings on it. The CO's tank, 66, had seven rings. Hebrock told Avery that the CO could have claimed six more kills but instead allowed them to go on 55, the tank that he had been commanding at the time of the kills. Of the ten tanks in Team Yankee, only Avery's tank, 21, had a clean gun tube.
It suddenly dawned upon him that since his arrival in the Team, no one had talked about what he had done in the war. Every time he asked questions about the battles the Team had been in when talking to Garger, his friend would move on to another subject. When the CO, XO, and Polgar gave a class on lessons learned thus far in the war, they gave it in a very impersonal and academic manner. At times, it seemed as if they were talking about another unit. It was as if there was a secret fellowship that only those members of the Team that had been in combat could belong to.