Authors: Robert Conroy
“Correct.
Now all we’ve got to do is figure a way to get close to Toronto and to contact the OSS or the underground.
Then we’ll see about driving that German car off the road and flying away safely.
Just so we all understand each other, this ain’t no suicide mission.
I plan to get everybody back alive and in one piece.”
Which just ain’t too likely, he thought sadly.
The slender young woman with long reddish brown hair walked up to the nurses’ station.
She’d made the same journey each day for the last week and gotten the same answer – no change.
The patient appeared to be responding to stimuli, but that was about it.
She might have been pretty except for the stress and strain etched in her face.
Despite that, her trim young figure turned the heads of a number of young male doctors and orderlies.
The senior nurse, a captain and a woman in her forties, took a deep breath.
How would this play out, she wondered.
Would it be triumph or tragedy?
The nurse took the woman’s arm and led her to a chair in the corner of the room where they would have some privacy.
When they were both seated, she said, “He woke up for good last night.”
“Oh God,” the woman gasped.
“How is he?
How is his mind?”
The nurse smiled.
It was a good question.
The boy had been out for some time, although sometimes more semi-conscious and incoherent than actually unconscious.
Even so, some people never truly came out of it.
“Can I see him or do I have to clear it through the doctors since I’m not family?”
The nurse smiled sweetly and patted her on the arm.
“Fuck the doctors.”
The young man was in a private room befitting his status as a war hero.
That happy situation wouldn’t last as casualties from the fighting just a few score miles north would soon begin to trickle down.
“You have company,” the nurse said and quietly departed.
The young man in the bed was facing away.
The young woman reached down and touched his arm.
“Tony?”
He started as if jabbed.
“Go away.”
Nancy O’Connor pulled over a chair and sat down facing him. His face was bruised and a bandage had been wrapped around his head.
“No way in hell, flyboy.
I didn’t take busses and trains all the way from Baltimore to Albany to be told to go away.
And, oh yeah, I’ve been sitting here for a week waiting for you to get around to waking up.
If I go it’ll be because I want to and not because any snotty pilot told me to.”
“I didn’t want you to see me like this!”
“What?
In bed?
I thought you always wanted me to see you in bed.”
Tony smiled slightly.
“Yeah, but not like this.
Or haven’t you noticed that I don’t take up the whole thing anymore.”
“When the time comes, that’ll leave more room for me.”
“I lost my leg just above the knee.”
“I know.”
Nancy didn’t add that the nurses had let her see the raw wound so she wouldn’t be shocked later one.
“They’re gonna fit me for an artificial one, but my flying days are over.
Hell, I won’t even be able to drive a car because I won’t be able to work the clutch.
I never could shift gears and drive with one foot like some guys could.”
“My uncle’s an engineer with General Motors and he told me they’re working on some kind of automatic transmission that won’t require shifting.
He also said he could modify a car so you could drive it.
In the meantime, I’ll drive you.”
“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
Nancy laughed.
“Not quite, but I’m working on it.
The big thing is to get you out of bed and on your feet and to quit feeling sorry for yourself.
Look, you’re a hero.
When the time comes they’re going to fly you to Washington for some kind of presentation.
You sank five U-boats and are responsible for the destruction of at least two more, and so what if you lost three planes in the process.
One was a Piper Cub, for Christ sake.”
“I lost some good men, Nancy.”
His last memory of his final flight was of him screaming as the plane skimmed across the waves and breaking into little pieces.
He dimly recalled being pulled into a boat, but then he’d passed out from the pain from his mangled leg and the result of his head hitting something hard in the plane.
“And you think your men would want you to lie here and whimper like a whipped puppy?”
Tony finally smiled a genuine smile.
“I guess not.
I just don’t want you to run away when you finally see me naked.
You were so shy when we were dating.”
“I am shy, but not that shy.
I just didn’t want a dazzling young pilot thinking he could get me in bed just by smiling.
When the time comes, we’ll have a good life together.
Besides, I saw your leg.
The nurse showed me when you were unconscious.
Nasty, but we’ll both deal with it.”
“You certain?”
She slid her hand under the covers and down his belly.
He gasped as she held his manhood and stroked it until it became hard.
“I’m certain.”
She let go and stood up.
“Now hold that thought until I come back.”
He groaned.
“You are so cruel.”
“I know; a real bitch.
But I love you and you love me, and we’re gonna work this out.”
She left the room and walked past the nurse.
“Well?”
Nancy grinned broadly.
“He’ll live.”
Ike could not hide his distress.
The landings had more than stalled.
Fredendall had just informed Bradley that he was pulling his more advanced units back into a compact mass that would, in his words, result in a more straitened and more easily defended perimeter.
He had also raised the specter of abandoning the site and withdrawing back to Ohio.
He momentarily expected a German assault in overwhelming strength.
“I thought we had a tiger in command, but it looks like we’ve got a pussycat,” Ike said.
“That’s not quite fair,” said Bradley.
“The timing of the landings was all screwed up.
We lost an entire day in which we could have landed more men, tanks, and guns and yes, moved farther inland.
We all agreed that the krauts would counter-attack and that we should be prepared.
If we hadn’t lost that day, we would be in much better shape.”
“Agreed,” Ike admitted, “But Fredendall still should have landed his troops that first day and now he’s got us jammed into such a small perimeter that there’s no room for maneuver.
All we can do is sit there and take it on the chin when the Germans attack.
We’ve given him orders to expand, but he’s rejected them, saying that the situation doesn’t permit it and that he’s the man on the ground.”
“What do you want me to do?” Bradley asked sadly, already knowing the answer.
A good man’s career was about to be flushed down the toilet.
He and Ike bore responsibility for appointing Fredendall in the first place, regardless of whether or not he was a favorite of Marshall’s.
Ike stiffened.
“I’m in overall command and I will make the decision.
Why don’t you have Truscott come here immediately?”
Truscott took the news calmly.
He had been half expecting it, half hoping for it.
He would immediately relieve Fredendall and take command of the three divisions now trying to dig in around Port Maitland.
Finally he would be able to get out of the damned office in the damned Pentagon and lead an army in battle.
Truscott decided to take a handful of people with him.
Among them were Downing and Grant, while others stayed behind in various states of anger and relief.
Truscott’s job was to take over III Corps and clean up the appalling mess in Canada.
Grant had been an unwilling witness to Fredendall receiving the orders confirming his relief.
The general had been angry, disappointed, bitter, and, in Tom’s opinion, just a little bit relieved.
“Lucian, I’ve done nothing wrong and you know it. History will show that I saved this army from destruction by my actions. I didn’t cause the problem that made us a day late and a dollar short with this invasion, but I’m being made the scapegoat, aren’t I?”
Tom made a move to slide out the door, but Truscott froze him with a hand signal.
He clearly wanted a witness.
They weren’t at what was derided as Fort Fredendall.
Instead, they were in a tent about a mile inland, but still in Ohio.
It was far from being a fort, but a number of soldiers were busy digging trenches and shelters.
Tom thought the general did need some protection from enemy bombers and infiltrators, but felt that enough digging had been done.
Truscott put his hand on the other man’s shoulder.
“Lloyd, you’ve done a great job under very bad conditions.
You’re going to get a third star out of your efforts.”
“Which means I’m being God-damned fucked over by being kicked upstairs.
Damn it to hell, it ain’t fair.”
Truscott held back.
He’d been critical of Fredendall in the past and saw no reason to make any comment on Fredendall’s performance.
Fredendall sulked and swore and finally left the building.
Rumor had it that he was already half packed, having expected the change.
Truscott waved the others into the room until about a dozen men were present.
Most of them were Fredendall’s choices and Tom wondered how they would mesh with the newcomers from the Pentagon.
Truscott was not going to give them a chance.
“Gentlemen, you can piss, moan, or resign some other time.
Right now, there’s a German army getting ready to attack and, as I look at our unit dispositions, our people are scattered all over a very small place.
I know they got orders to dig in where they were, but we’re going to have to get some maneuvering room and more firepower out there.”
He turned to a captain, one of his predecessor's staffers.
“Has the general actually ever gone to the beachhead?”
The captain flushed.
“No sir.”
“Well, I am.
You get me a float plane that can land right by the shore.
I’m going there to see how things are and maybe kick some ass.
Colonel Downing, you will stay here and prepare to move this organization to someplace more efficient.
If we can’t set up shop in the perimeter, I want to be right off shore in a ship.
Steal it if you have to, but get cracking.
I can’t stand to be this far away from the action.”
Canfield got the news that Truscott was now in command and smiled.
Like most of his men, he had developed zero confidence in Fredendall and he believed that the rest of the men felt the same way.
There was a clear feeling of relief among the officers and men.
The Germans were coming, but now maybe the American Army had a fighting chance of beating them.
Now maybe they would fight instead of hiding.