The weather was cold and rainy, per the usual in England, which meant that the training was more focused on the joys of foxhole digging and staying warm. Not to mention the standards of hunting food and living off the land. Most of the guys who had been raised as country boys thrived but men like Luz were miserable. If it hadn't been for the boys like Shifty Powers more than a few heads would have been rolling to a certain degree.

Today, though, was pouring rain which meant classroom work and sitting around doing much of nothing. The night tactical would be delayed due to the downpour, hand-to-hand was going to be off unless they could convince the cooks to move the tables for them...it was a typical boring day in Aldbourne leaving the men with to much time on their hands. When George peeked his head out of the barn side door where the NCO's generally met he glanced left and right making sure the coast was clear before motioning Bill to follow after him. "You got all your paperwork? Everything set so you know what to say, do, et all?"

They were lost. Again. It didn't really surprise the guys of Easy who had been placed under Sobel's command for the maneuver for the day. George Luz happened to be one of the 'lucky' few who had the honor of following Captain Chickenshit around the background of England. They all felt sorry for Tipper who was in charge of handling the maps and paperwork for Sobel as well. Every time they turned around the chickenshit was demanding to see the map. It was really no surprise when the Captain called for a halt as the platoon came fast first with a barbed wire fence. What made it even more priceless was the fact that he had decided to wear not the required uniform of a paratrooper, but the rather obnoxious fighter pilot jacket he had somehow acquired. It was all the men could do to keep from laughing their asses off openly in front of him.

As the men came to a halt they instantly took a knee in a 'U' shaped pattern so all sides were watched for the enemy. "Why is there a fence here?" Sobel asked, shocked, as he glanced down at the barbed wire strands. "There shouldn't be a fence here." Turning back toward the men, ignoring the man beside of him, he started yelling. "Tipper! Tipper give me th-" at the tapping of the mapcase on his arm he turned toward him. "The map."

Aggravated, Sobel flipped the case open only giving it a glance before turning back toward the platoon. "Perconte. Luz. Get the men..Get the...Take cover behind those trees!"

George and Frank exchanged glances before standing. "Come on guys. Move out! Come on move!"

Still at the fence Sobel stared down at the mapcase using his finger to trace over the lines. "There shouldn't be a fence here."

Hix Xo cleared his throat. "We, uh, could always go over it, sir."

"Really," Sobel said giving the man a flat stare. "That's not the point. Where the God damned-! Where the God damned hell are we?"

Once the men were out of hearing distance from the Black Swan, one of the men sighed. "Hey. Perconte- Sobel's lost again ain't he?"

Frank snorted, "Yeah. He's lost." It was the twinkle in his eye that got a raised brow. "Hey! Hey, Luz!"

Shouldering his rifle George pushed his way over to his friend. "Yeah?"

The twinkle in Perco's eyes was still there as he gave a wry grin. "Can you do Major Horton?" Thankfully George just snorted and did his best impression of the Major. "Does a wild bear crap in the woods, son?" All about them the men snorted and chuckled.

"Shh," Perco hushed them. "Think the good Major can goose this schmuck? Get us movin?"

For a moment George stood there stunned. A shy little smile crossed his face as he motioned toward where Sobel was standing, "Geeze I don't know.."

Skip and the others were right behind him. "Come on! You gotta, Luz! You gotta!"

"All righty. Just this once." As the men took a knee and encouraged him on, Luz tried his best to shush them.

Meanwhile, back at the fence, Sobel muttered to himself as he read the grid. "Three point six..three, three. Isn't that the intersection?"

Tipper gave a small sigh and watched. "No, sir, it's here. You're a full grid off."

Sobel raised a hand and rubbed at his brow under his helmet. "Damnit."

"Is there a problem, Captain Sobel?" 'Major Horton' called out.

Instantly the man rounded on the hiding spot. "Who said that? Who broke silence?!

Tipper snorted a little laugh. "I think it's Major Horton, sir." He had to duck his head as Sobel turned toward him white as a ghost. ".....Major Horton?" his CO croaked. "Wh-what is he? Did he join us?"

"I think..maybe he's moving through the platoons sir?" Tip was going to have to buy George a beer for t his one.

"What is the God Damned hold up Mister Sobel?!" Trying his best, Luz shushed the guys about him. If they blew this they were all dead.

Sobel replied, "A fence, sir! We're, ah...god...A barbed wire fence, sir!"

"Oh that dog just ain't gonna hunt! Now you cut that fence and get this God Damned platoon on th' move!"

There was a moments pause as Sobel stared shocked toward where the Major was. "Yes, sir!" Rounding on Evans he demanded his wire cutters. Within a matter of minutes the platoon was on the move again and Sobel none the wiser.

Time never stopped moving on this side of the door. War still raged without a break and no door back into Milliways. Easy moved closer and closer to the border then into Germany. Men were lost, men were gained. It was a never ending circle when there is a war going on.

Then the War ended.

They were going home.

Home was hard to adjust to at first. Still hopes of there being a door back into the Bar at the End of the Universe where his friends were at. His other friends- some he saw more as brothers really. None of them seemed to have found the door again. Noone knew why.

There were marriages.

Births.

Deaths.

Time moved.

Standing a good ways back in the cemetary dressed in his class A's a young man crossed his arms infront of him, clasping his hands together and watching without so much as an expression on his face. It was a decent day outside where the weather had held out though jackets were still needed. 1600 people had turned out. All for him. He had seen Frank, Major Winters..everyone from Easy who could make it in their old age. But there George stood away from everyone else watching, only somewhat listening.

He had tried to get their attention, tried to comfort Del and their children but...there was only so much one could do when they weren't really there.

Reaching down he picked up the dufflebag that rested by his side. He had always heard in the stories that when you died you sometimes you reverted back into a time where you were most happy. Luz had to admit, throughout all the trouble of the War he had been his happiest with Easy. Glancing between a row of headstones he moved toward the wooden door that was there with the laziest of smiles upon his face.

He was going home.

Since arriaving at the old military barracks in France, the men have been in Heaven. A chance for some much deserved rest, recovery, and refitting. Winter gear wasn't high on the list of items for a full rifle company though. They were snugs as bugs in a rug!

Hitler was going to be rather stupid to try anything in the dead of winter.

Inside the movie hall a handful of guys were watching Seven Sinners, scattered about or in groups all staring up at the old black and white. Except one man though, a cigarette dangling from his lips from time to time. "Look at me, I'm John Wayne," Luz says in his best drawn out Wayne impression, "The costume department set me up with these great navy whites."

Carwood Lipton turned around along with Joe Toye both glaring daggers at the radio man. "Luz, shut up."

"I'm trying to watch this," Toye spoke just as deadpan as ever.

Luz just grined, winking over at Bonzo who was a few seats away before raising his hand and motioning to the screen. "I've seen this movie 13 times, okay?"

Joe let out a held breath of frustration. "Well, I haven't, so, shut up."

"Watch the movie, it's fine."

This was going to be interesting.

[ooc: Some words taken from the series Band of Brothers for flows sake. All credit for that goes to the writers!]

when: early evening
where: Easy Company CP

The evening air of Holland is cold- rain clouds over head threaten to open up upon the men of the 101st Airborne dead or alive. Harrison was off within the makeshift aid station being tended to by other medics within Company E with Ryan staying close to his friend most of the time. When chow was called he joined the others before returning with two mess kits full for both.

Most of the time the Milliways patrons were left alone save a few looks from the support staff that remained at the CP.

Slowly men started to trickle back from the line- a man scrawny man with a wounded neck leading a handful of POWs was the first then others. Some wounded some not. It was a pretty even mix to see that this company also got a close encounter with the enemy. Each watches the new men carefully before droping their gear and heading to the chow line. Replacements. Greenies. None would greet them yet.

when: Mid-afternoon
where: Battalion CP

When the jeep arriaves the scene is in total choas. Enemy artillery is falling around the command post sending tufts of dirt, people, jeeps, anything in its way like ragdolls into the air. Germans were pressing forward in what had to be a full company and a half battering the Americans back. They were quickly losing numbers like mad- any longer and the CP would be overrun.

Williams fights to keep the jeep undercontrol with the other paratroopers crowded onto it as Sargeant Byrne skidded the jeep he was driving up beside of his. "Everybody out!" he bellowed over the sounds of combat. "Harrison! Take Ryan and the replacements and find Horton! Carriger! Get your squad and flank them to the right! MOVE IT!"

As everyone piled out of the jeeps two men ran to where they were at, one jerking forward like a rag doll as a set of bullets tore through his body with a sickening thunkthunk sound. The other man kept going, a young private, until Sarge grabed him by the arm. "Snap out of it kid! Back to the line!"

"What line?" the kid screamed, "Horton is dead and the line broke! We're falling back!" Jerking free the kid took off running again leaving the paratroopers silent.

"Harrison- take your squad and move to find Colonel Sink. Tell him that Horton is dead. Bryne- we'll take the other jeep and find reinforcements. Let's movie it, ladies!"

With a nod Harrison turned back to the Milliways-folk, Ryan, Williams, and Burt who was still behind the wheel. "Well you heard the man. Back in the jeep!"

Holland so far had been a massive letdown for the American forces there. Operation Market Garden wasn't the exact best of campaings the 101st had been in. In fact, compaired to Normandy, it was the first time the whole Division had faced failure.

HQ for the 2nd Battalion had seen little action throughout the day. The germans on the otherside of 'the Island' had little to no movement that they were able to see. Most of the troops assigned to the company drilled, took patrols, and listend to the radio. Thankfully the Dutch were still kind enough to pass on fruits though their less than tactful flight from Neunen at their first major defeat.

It's midday and inspite of the sun shining down for once it's cold. No doubt a frost would settle over the land within the next few days. Patrols are out walking past destroyed jeeps, a few dead German bodies and the fewer American ones. One patrol in particular hadn't reported back in hours, their corpses resting along the dike where a German sniper had pinked them off. It's quite possible to find a uniform that's not to bloody to wear...

How will you remember those that died to give us our freedom today?


Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionaty Force!

You are about to embark on the Great Crusade, toward which we have
striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The
hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you.
In company with our brave Allies and brothers-in-arms on other
Fronts, you will bring about the destruction of the German war
machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over the oppressed peoples
of Europe, and the security for ourselves in a free world.

Your task will not be an easy one. Your enemy is well trained, well
equipped and battle-hardened. He will fight savagely.

But this is the year 1944! Much has happened since the Nazi triumphs
of 1940-41. The United Nations have inflicted upon the Germans great
defeatsm in open battle, man-to-man. Our air offensive has seriously
reduced their strength in the air and their capacity to wage war on
the ground. Our Home Fronts have given us an overwhelming
superiority in weapons and munitions of war, and placed at our
disposal great reserves of trained fighting men. The tide has
turned! The free men of the world are marching together to Victory!

I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty and skill in
battle. We will accept nothing less than full Victory!

Good Luck! And let us all beseech the blessing of Al-mighty God upon
this great and noble undertaking.

Dwight Eisenhower

Thursday evening came about in a blurry haze. Where most of Wednesday had been spent recovering from the USO show, George had managed to sneak smoe time away from the boys for a quick lunch with his friendly neighborhood civilian war correspondent. For the radioman the rest of the evening was spent with the silliest of smiles upon his face.

As evening rolled about a handful of the boys had made it down the street to one of the local pubs. Perconte, Luz, Bill, and Hoobler were all gathered at the bar- most enjoying their fourth glasses of beer- and laughing over half finished tales.

"..is sta-standing there looking like his fuckin leg bad had droped on his head," Perco tries to get out, nearly doubled over onto the bar laughing so hard. "All Smith could say was 'I thought he was a Kraut!' Tab was hollerin and screamin s-so loud he had to have woken the whole fuckin 101st!"

George was laughing so hard he had buried his face in the crook of his left arm, his right hand still holding onto the beer bottle beside of him Hoobler was laughing so hard tears were streaming down his cheeks.

Monday in London was spent relaxing for most of the guys staying at the hotel that Skip's friend had suggested to them...that or at the bar that was right next door.

Tuesday, however, was the day of the USO show. By early evening most of the guys were running around enjoying drinks going back and forth between everyones room while trying to get ready. Of course there was much laughing and general choas that only Easy Company could produce which is one of the reasons they had been stuck onto a floor by themselves.

When the boys walked into the dance hall that was just a few blocks from the hotel it was like something out the history books for the future-men. The hall was dully lit with streamers hanging from the center down to different sections of the rafters in Red, White, and Blue while other hangings in the colors of the United States puffed out in pleated form between them.

At the far end of the hall was the dance stage where Glenn Miller and his band members were setting up instruments and tuneing them before the preformance was to start. Behind them hung a very, very large flag sporting 48-stars instead of what Bill and Nathan would be used too. The air in the hall was like a buzz filled with soldiers from the USAAF, Navy, and the Airborne. Plenty of women- locals and militray mingled about as well giving many a chance for a good dance in the evening.

Closer to the entrance tables were set up closer to the bar where drinks and food was being served.

George couldn't help but grin as he slid the cap off his head as the group moved deeper into the hall in search of a few empty tables. Most of the guys had already broken off for drinks and to find a single woman amongst the throng of G.I.'s. "This," he said opening his arms and looking back at his friends, "is the life."

Before George leaves the bar to check his gear for Market Garden, two notes are left at the bar.

One is addressed to ( Bill Pardy )

The other is addressed to ( Nathan Petrelli )

[01] Grab the nearest book.
[02] Open the book to page 23.
[03] Find the fifth sentence.
[04] Post the next 3 sentences in your LJ, with these rules.
[05] Don't dig for a cool book. :/ BE HONEST!
[06] Tag five other people to do the same.

"He spoke of the for silence, of bayonets and hand gernades, of the flak expected above and the Germans below. He dwelt at such length on the general's demand for two days' violent efford that he left the impression in our minds that this was the limit expected of us. Gas might be used in a desperate attempt to stop the Invasion, so keep your masks handy."
- David Kenyon Webster, Parachute Infantry

Tags- anyone who actually reads my journal that wants to do this

Quick update- had to go to the ER with my Papaw this morning at 3AM, posting from home real fast before we run back up to be with him.

Thought he was having another heart attack, Docs say it's fluid around his heart but they don't really know right now.

If you need me badly, email me. dawn_catcher@hotmail.com I can check my email on my phone. Just can't post to LJ on it.

Bill-mun? Nathan-mun? Can you please pass this on to Belle-mun for me?

Back in Aldbourne it was like time had stopped long enough for George to go into Milliways and find his two new friends then return. The air is warm with the faintest of cooling breezes that makes it a perfect summer day. Thankfully the mid-day traffic is lighter than usual with all of the 101st in the area back at the camp prepairing for their week passes. Slideing on his overseas cap he makes sure it has the perfect tilt to it before motioning for Nathan and Bill to follow suit.

"Liebgott was chewing my ass out earlier for saying I had to find you two before we left. I also thought Perconte was gonna do the same but I swore we'd be back in time to get to the trucks..." then he looks down at his watch and curses. Loudly.

"Come on- we're cutting it close for the Army approved ride. We'll find a jeep or something to take us to the camp."

Cutting down a few side streets Luz looks over his shoulder to make sure the other two are keeping up only stopping in time to see a jeep with the driver still in it parked and talking to some of the towns folk. "Hey! Mac! Yeah- you! Can you get us to the camp before the trucks leaves?"

The driver looks back at the three paratroopers and snorts, "Hop in, boys, and hold on tight."

It's been 36 days since D-day. 36 days of nonstop fighting on the frontline in Normandy and 36 days of interesting encounters. Finally back in England with the promise of a weeks long pass to where ever in the British Isles they can pick has most of the men of the 101st anxious to be away from most rules and regulations. Radioman George Luz is one of these men.

Straightening his tie in the mirror he is soon shoved out of the way by skinny Joe Liebgott who is intent on also straighening his class a's. "Hey George," Lieb says with his usual sly grin, "You thinkin we're gonna see some action in London?"

"Yeah, Joe," George snorts, picking up his overseas cap and tucking it behind his belt. He can't help but smile looking at everyone in the barracks getting ready for the train. "All the above, pal."

Making his way towards the door George spun his head around when he heard his name called. "Luz, man, where are you goin? Train leaves in half an hour!" It was Frank Perconte who was also hurrying to catch up with him. "Cap'n Winters wants me to meet up with two of the new transferrs we got comin in. Thinks havin them around some of us on leave might make it easier on them, ya know?"

Perco's face contorted in a smirk. "You mean we are gettin greenies already?"

"Jesus Christ- No, Frank, they were at Normandy too with the 82nd. I'll be back in time to catch the truck to the station, ok?"

"Yeah, sure." Waveing George off the shorter of the two went back to getting ready leaving Luz plenty of time to slip out the door without being stopped again. Once outside he quickly hitched a ride back into the town of Aldbourne where he would be meeting Nathan and Bill if he could find the right door. Luz licked his lips once then moved to the southern most edge of town. He knew that was a building there that wasn't being used. It would be the perfect place.

Opening the door he stepped inside, quite pleased to find the familiar bar he had been opening to see.

[OOC: Because the mun can't find the words to describe the scene]

Finding a lost regiment isn't an easy thing to do when you have no idea where you are. Doing so at night makes it a little harder. At least that is what the rag-tag group of four had found out. A whole day of walking the back country of Normandy had proven...well...eventful. Small arms fire happened through the day with another five men joining the group. The new additions were two more men from the 501st, a man from the 506th Dog Company as well as Fox Company, but no Easy. George was starting to get worried.

In the time it had taken the band of paratroopers to reach Ste. Marie-du-Mont, the regiment had already left. Thankfully a few supply trucks were still packing up and offered the wayward boys rides. Within an hours drive from the town of St. Côme-du-Mont the 501st men went their separate way, their regiment still cleaning up on the outskirts of the city while the 506th had taken the town. George, however, was a little heartbroken that he had missed Brécourt Manor and what was starting to trickle up from their actions at du-Mont as well. Pride swelled his chest at being with such a group but was quickly deflated with relief at being back with familiar faces.

The next day found the Company taking much needed rest within the city. Everyone knew it wouldn't last long so everywhere one could see men were stretched out smoking cigarets or trying to nap, but the tension was to great. That morning they had been put on stand-by which meant they were pulling out soon. But to where seemed to be the question on everyone's mind.

"George. Come on, George! You gotta know something!" Perconte whined beside of him. Well, it wasn't a real whine but the hint of it was there. "I mean you are th' radioman for 1st."

Hoobler just grinned his usual boyish smile. The kid loved war- he was almost eager to get moving again. "He doesn't know everything only what the brass wants him to know. Right, Luz?"

Pffting slightly, the comedian just smiled his cocky little half smile. "All the officers have been holed up in that shop for the past few hours. Every time I try to go close I'm ushered away like I was about to steal a cookie or something."

Dukeman perked up from looking at the collection of watches on Perco's arm, "Someone has cookies?" All three men turned and gave him a blank stare- it was George who was the first to recover. "Yes, Duke. Cookies. Let me go check in leg bag- oh wait! That's right! We all lost our leg bags! Sorry, kid. Fresh out." With a rejected look the private went back to looking at the watches.

"Hey fellas!" a familiar voice called from the edge of the group, rounding the back-end of a transport truck.

Luz blinked once, a large smile starting to cross his face. "Well look who decided to show up! Floyd- how the hell are ya?" With his hand out, Floyd Talbert gratefully shook it, relief at finally finding the Company evident in his, Shifty Powers, and Albert Blithe's faces. "Hi there, Luz. We thought we'd never find you guys."

"Hey, Tab, get a load of this!" Joe Leibgott walked over, digging something out of one of his pockets. He gave the red material a sharp flap to unroll it reveling a German flag. "You like that?"

Joe just grinned, "Yeah, it's the real stuff, man."

Talbert just grinned and dug out his own prize from a jacket pocket- a German paratroopers camo poncho. "Oh, nice!" Luz grinned, hand already going out to touch the material before Floyd started to roll it up again. "Nu uh, George."

Hoobler just smirked, watching with envy of the poncho. "My luger's gonna put you all to shame when I get it."

"That's a beauty, sarge."

"Let's go, 1st platoon! Easy is moving out! On your feet!" Turning their heads all the men gathered up their gear some still welcoming back the three wayward paratroopers. Quickly the men moved closer to the shop the officers had been in to stand in front of their platoon leader. Lieutenant Welsh was a short man- but a fiery little Irishman that got along well with his men.

"Listen up! It'll be dark soon. I want light and noise discipline from here on. No talking, no smoking. And no playing grab-fanny with the man in front of you, Luz."

Leo Boyle squinted against the sun as he moved into place in line, crossing his arms and shifting his gear about, "So, where we headed to, lieutenant, huh?"

Welsh didn't miss a beat as he hooked his musette bag around his neck soon followed by his mapcase. "We're taking Carentan." This sent a murmur amongst them men. That had been a strong guess where they were heading next. It wasn't going to be an easy fight.

Leibgott snorted once shifting his helmet against his side caused by seeing the large grin on Hoobler's face. In his usual callus tone, he remarked, "That sounds like fun."

"It's the only place where armor from Omaha and Utah beach can link up and head inland. Until we take Carentan, they're stuck on the sand. General Taylor is sending the whole division."

Now it was George's turn to be a smart-ass. Who would have expected less of him with a comment like that? Snarking once he looked up and around at the men beside of him before speaking. "Remember, boys," he started in his dead-on impression of General Taylor, "Give m' three days an' three nights of ha'd fightin' and you will be relieved." This, At least, got the men and Welsh snickering.

Hoobler soon stepped up with his hand raised to get attention. He was like a kid in a candy store. "Lieutenant? Lieutenant, I'll take point."

Welsh nodded, "Corporal Hoobler will be lead scout. Blithe, glad you could join us."

The still dazed Blithe just managed a brief small smile, "Thank you, sir."

"1st platoon, fall in behind Fox company," already their platoon leader was moving, motioning with his helmet for them to get going, "You people from 2nd and 3rd platoon follow us."

Adjusting his chin strap to fit around the back of his helmet Luz followed the line of men with another half smirked grin on his face. "Another thing to remember boys... Flies...spread disease. So keep yours closed." The platoons laughed, some calling out for more wise cracks and others for him remembering. It was good to be back with Easy.

Some dialouge taken from Band of Brothers

The ground swelled up to meet him with a hard thump- not the perfect landing that Sobel would have demanded from his men, but nothing was broken in the process that he could tell. Any landing like that was a good enough landing for him. He had no gear. No nothing. Everything that he had, including his prized radio, was gone with the stupid leg bag that just didn't hold up to snuff. Damn Brits, he thought.
Cutting out of his chute wasn't that easy of a task. Half of it was free and blowing in the light wind that had decided to pick up while the rest of the poor material was stuck in a tree. Thankfully his boot knife that was strapped to his leg had managed the jump without being lost. Luz was almost about to stop to cut out a square when the sounds of a German machine gun burped close enough to send him hurrying for cover.

No-one from his stick was near. Not even within cricket distance from what he could see which was bad. Where the hell was everybody? Carefully he made his way through the dark French countryside trying his best to angle in the direction away from the Kraut machine gun position while walking back in the direction they had flown. That is what Meehan had drilled into them at the briefing: follow the flight path back towards the coast to find your meeting spot. If no-one from his company was around, that wasn't going to be easy.

Ducking behind a hedgerow Luz carefully prowled forward with his trench knife in hand. The night was silent save the few sounds of gunshots in the distance. Far enough away to not be worried about. Glancing down at his watch the radioman tried his best to catch the glare of the moon for the time. Soon the next wave of airborne troops would be dropping and whatever peace the Normandy countryside was experiencing now would start all over again. As if on cue, towards the coastline, the sounds of anti-air cannons boomed causing a chill to run down his sweat soaked back.

Crooking his neck slightly George knelt on his right knee to watch when the roaring sounds of the C-47's came closer. To his horror when the paratroopers came closer the burp gun that had almost zeroed in on him found the easy, free-falling targets. George wanted to scream to them- tell them where the German position was, but he knew doing that would be his own undoing.

The sounds of bullets hitting flesh made a sickening ka-thunk. He wanted to lose what little of a dinner they had been given hours before H-hour. Training, thankfully, prevented this. When the man had landed the 506th man quickly darted off to the writhing figure on the ground. "Flash!" he hissed over and over making sure the kid knew a friendly was coming closer. Blood gurgled from his lips, his helmet with the AA 82nd Airborne symbol on the sides of his helmet. "It's ok, buddy," George managed to breath out using shaking hands undo the first-aid pouch from the other man's helmet. "We'll get you to a medic.."

Green eyes looked up at him full of fright from the jump and knowing death was coming for him. George wanted to scream- at the Germans for starting the whole damn war, for the kid having to be here, and the stress of the situation. Tearing open the m43 jump jacket enough to see the bullet holes made him wince. There was nothing he could do. Carefully he lifted the kid from the 82nd up holding him as if he was holding a dear friend. "It's ok, kid. It's ok..Go on home. You did good, kid.." Again those green eyes stared up at him when the last labored breaths slowly died with one last jerk of the body. This wasn't the best way to start a war.

"Flash!" a voice hissed behind him causing Luz to jerk slightly much like the dead kid he was holding had.

"Thunder!" he replied back, slowly lowering the other paratrooper. From an unseen opening in the hedgerow three men had emerged. Two wore the diamond from the 501st upon their helmets and the other the spade of the 506th though George didn't know him.

"Jesus fucking Christ," one of the guys from the 501st said with a thick southern accent, looking at the shot-up body of the 82nd boy. "They are picking them out of the sky like ducks in a pond!"

The other man from the 501st nearly growled, "Can it, Tipton! Our boys can take care of themselves up there. We got more important things to worry about." Looking back at Luz the man looked him over, studying him for a moment. "Lieutenant Wagner, Able Company 501st. This is Private Tipton, Baker Company 501st and Private Bellamy, Fox Company 506th."

George blinked. "Fox? What platoon?"

"2nd, sir," came the mumbled reply from the jumpy private. The German machine gun had started off in the distance forcing all the men to go silent. After a moment, Luz replied. "Sergeant George Luz, Easy Company 506th. Radioman from 1st platoon."

As if satisfied with the answer the Lieutenant nodded once as he scanned the distance. "Seems we all missed our DZ. You'll be with us until we figure out what the hell is going on. Got a weapon, Sergeant?"

"Ah..No, sir. Lost everything in the damn leg bag. Even my radio." By the un-shocked explanation there was no doubt the man had heard it before. "Take the kid's rifle and whatever ammo he has. He won't be needing it. Well? Get a move on, Sergeant! We need to get out of here!"