War Wreath
By J. L. Young The snow had compacted and formed ice on the cobblestones. My platoon was caught in a stalemate in the center of Strasbourg. We had the Germans’ backs to the Rhine. Corporal Leo Meyer slid beside me. He almost made me lose what traction on the ice I had. I cleared my rifle and ducked down. Corporal Meyer hollered over the incoming fire, “I’m out Sarge!” I unbuttoned my pouch and handed him a fresh clip, “Don’t you dare fire until you have a shot. Is that understood?” “Yes, Sarge!” He said as he stuffed the clip into his Garand. I aimed over the broken wall we were crouched behind. A few rounds lodged in the rock as I ducked down. As the Germans reloaded, I looked again. The helmet of one of them was in sight. I lined it up in my iron sights and shot a round. No doubt the bullet glanced off his helmet. My last rifle cartridge was spent. I sat with my back to the wall, my colt in hand, seven rounds in the mag and one in the chamber. I looked at the radioman. He was speaking into the “handie talkie.” “Sharp, where’s my air cover?” “It’s not coming, Sarge! We’re to hold our position.” “Get back on that radio and get me some air cover.” “They tell me it’s too cold. Something about ice on the wings. Is that a thing?” “How the fuck would I know! Give me the ‘talkie,’” I ordered. Sharp pressed the antenna down and slid the radio over to me. I yanked up on the antenna, held the five-pound radio to my ear, and pressed the switch, “Boxcar 217 to Desk Lamp.” “Desk Lamp, go ahead, Boxcar.” “Springfield sure is cold this time of year.” “Rodger. It will warm up.” I collapsed the antenna and slid the radio back to Sharp. “We aren’t getting out of this the easy way.” A few minutes passed. Between the shots, I heard a diesel engine roaring down the street behind us. I took my binoculars from my coat and peered through them. A Sherman tank adorned with a Christmas wreath over its main gun. I held my glee as it slowed. It took fire from the Germans. The machine guns, built into the tank, unleashed all hell. The noise was deafening. Several German soldiers threw their rifles over and stood with their hands raised. It did indeed warm up.
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