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“No, we need at least one experienced NCO to . . .”
“Fug you, Rio, I’m going with you!”
“Geer, get Stafford, Castain, Beebee, and Molina out of here when we go.”
“I’m not leaving Pang!”
“You cannot carry him!” But she knows there’s no point arguing. Not now. Rank means nothing now. “Cat?”
“Yep.”
“On one. Three. Two.”
Rio and Cat jump to their feet. Each is armed with a Thompson. Each runs, fingers squeezing triggers, firing almost blind at nothing but muzzle flashes that shift location after each fusillade.
The machine gun ahead now turns its fire toward the chattering Thompsons, but as they do the remains of the platoon outrun a wedge of advancing Germans. They reach trees again and in a move that does Rio and Cat proud, they turn and fire from cover on the exposed Germans, snarling and cursing.
“Die, motherfuggers!”
“Come on, you Kraut bastards!”
Cat falls to the ground and trips Rio just as a stream of lead passes that would have cut her in half.
“Shit, Rio, I’m hit,” Cat says.
“Bad?”
“My leg.”
Rio has just ordered Geer to abandon a wounded Pang. She should abandon Cat. Instead she lays her Thompson on Cat’s chest, gets behind her on hands and knees, grabs handfuls of uniform, and pulls.
Cat is hurt, but she still has her Tommy gun and she fires despite being on her back. The file of Germans that had been sent to cut off the platoon withdraws, but keeps up a steady rate of disciplined fire.
The only way out is through a hundred-yard gap between the firing Americans in the trees and the firing Germans.
It is flatly impossible.
“Cat.”
“Yeah.”
“I think we may have to surrender.”
But just then the firing coming from the Americans increases, and from the woods comes Geer with his BAR firing from his hip and Jack is just behind him.
Rio and Cat join in, and for a blessed moment the German machine gun is silent.
“Run!” Rio yells, and they all race pell-mell for the woods, with renewed fire zinging at their heels.
23
RIO RICHLIN—HÜRTGEN FOREST, NAZI GERMANY
“You what?” Lieutenant Horne is livid.
“I pulled out,” Rio says.
“Were you not aware, Sergeant, that I had ordered Sticklin to stay put?”
