France

jerome

“You’re on point, Private.” The lieutenant grins.

“Point, sir?”  The boy looks  confused. “But they’s only the two of us.”

“I was joking, Private. How much ammo you got?”

“Only what’s on my belt, sir. The leg bag with my spare clips got tore off in the jump.”

“We came in too fast,” agrees the lieutenant. “Slipstream. Can’t do anything about it now. We’ll get more at Division CP. When we find it.”

The private’s face is a pale slash in the summer darkness. He blinks.  “You got any idea where we’re at, sir?”

“France,” the lieutenant says, grinning again.

 

12 thoughts on “France

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