Back in her time by Patricia Corbett Bowman Read Free Book Online Page B

there, and somehow the scouts were overpowered without a shot being fired. Sarge says we wait until dark to scope it out.”
    â€œPsst!” A hushed voice teeming with anger said, “Whitey, Junior! Get out of that ditch this minute. A mortar hits there, it will run the length and take you two with it. Haven’t you boys learned anything yet?” Sarge’s face was mottled a dark red.
    Meekly, the soldiers vacated the gully and found a nearby depression. Now that’s the Pops I know. Always yelling if you don’t do things the right way. I suppose it will save our lives. Guess he’s justified.
    The soldiers settled down for another long wait. Taylor took advantage and slept. She was tired after all the digging and hadn’t eaten anything since that morning when she’d had some black Italian bread harder than the rock she sat on to chew it. Dipping it in tea hadn’t helped much.
    Taylor awoke feeling tired, with stones embedded in her side. What I’d give for a nice hot shower. These clothes haven’t been changed in weeks by the smell of them. At least everyone else smells just as bad. No one will be calling me names over these clothes!
    A tap on her shoulder told Taylor it was time to move forward. Sarge indicated by hand which direction Taylor, Whitey, and Mac should go. A wide circuit around the building. Yeah, we know the drill. The three silently crawled forward to the north side of the structure. Taylor could barely see other Allied soldiers in the dark doing the same on the south side.
    Mac had taken the lead, with Taylor close behind, Whitey in the rear. It was slow going and difficult not to make noise, dragging themselves over the rocky terrain. They stopped frequently when they thought they had been too loud.
    About ten feet from the farmhouse, Taylor saw a flash of light from an upstairs window. She grabbed Mac’s boot in front of her. Mac turned his head slightly. Taylor gestured to the window and put her fingers to her lips to indicate smoking. She hoped Mac could see what she was doing. Mac nodded his head, and they crawled up the last few feet as stealthily as possible, hearts pounding. Whitey was right behind Taylor, bumping into her occasionally. Mac raised a hand to stop and indicated a door on the side of the house. Taylor shook her head and pointed to a window beyond the doorway. The three advanced until they reached the window.
    Pulling himself up, Mac, the tallest of the three, peered over the sill. He gave an all-clear sign as he lowered his body to the ground. The three rested against the house, deciding what to do.
    Whitey pointed to the doorway, a couple of feet back. He made a quick wiping motion with his hands, suggesting they rush the house. Taylor put up a finger to get them to wait a minute. From around an old flower bed, she picked up a rock the size of her fist and made a throwing motion at the door. Mac and Whitey nodded their heads in agreement. Taylor signalled Mac to take the right side of the door and Whitey to take the left. She stood in front of the door and swung her arm back into a pitch that would have done a junior leaguer proud. Releasing the rock, she followed through and watched it thump the door loudly. Taylor threw herself into the flower bed near Whitey.
    The first sounds from the house were heavy boots pounding down stairs. The door opened bit by bit, and a rifle barrel jutted out. Mac jumped up and grabbed the rifle so hard he pulled the enemy right out of the house. Whitey whacked the guy in the face with his rifle butt, and the German collapsed with a grunt. Mac dragged the unconscious man over to the flower bed where Taylor sat amazed by the quick, silent, bloodless work.
    More heavy footsteps descended the stairs inside, with whispering in German, “What is happening?” The soldier came to the wide-open doorway and leaned out repeating his question. Taylor leaped up out of the dark and hit him with the butt of her