Hell, he told himself, something like this is so weird, they won’t even put it in my service record. They’ll be afraid to.
Macurdy wakened at dawn, and went to Roy’s tent to see if he could get hold of some mess gear. A guy in Roy’s squad had gotten arrested in Oujda two nights earlier for slugging an MP officer, so Roy loaned Macurdy his.
They were sitting on the ground eating breakfast when the MPs arrived with the company commander, who spotted Keith and took the MPs to him. The three sergeants got to their feet as the C.O. approached, Macurdy wishing he dared cloak himself. As it was, there he stood, less than four feet from Keith, with the name Macurdy above his left breast pocket, and stenciled on his helmet. It seemed to him he might as well be wearing neon lights and an alarm bell.
But when the MPs took Staff Sergeant Fred Keith away with them, Macurdy was still there, ignored.
Except by the C.O. “Sergeant,” he said ominously, “I don’t believe I know you.” He peered at the name on Macurdy’s helmet. “What’s your outfit, trooper?”
The name on the C.O.’s helmet was Szczpura, and he had a trace of accent. The scars on his face, and the broken nose, suggested years in the prize ring; probably, Macurdy thought, as a middleweight. And almost certainly he’d never seen West Point. OCS probably. His mien as well as his aura reflected not only competence but integrity, a man who acted according to his convictions.
So Macurdy sketched out the whole story for him, except for the invisibility spell, with Roy Klaplanahoo supporting the parts on healing. “It looks like the 505th could be leaving here without one of its platoon sergeants,” Macurdy finished, “and I’m a good one. I jumped at Youks les Bains, and was in on the capture of Tebessa and Gafsa.” He neglected to say there’d been no Germans at either of them. “I’ve done recon patrols of German and Italian outposts in Tunisia, fought at Faid Pass, and commanded a jump in German territory to rescue a couple of our people. And got them out alive.” He paused, then added in German, “Ferner spreche ich ganz gut Deutsch”-(Also I speak rather good German)-hoping it would make him more attractive.
Szczpura laughed drily. “Das ist nicht gutes Deutsch. Das ist baltisches Deutsch,” he answered. (“That’s not good German. That’s Baltic German.”) The captain’s German was a little rough but easily understood. “I was born in Poland, in Olsztyn. There are a lot of Germans around Olsztyn; I had a German grandmother that lived with us.”
His gray eyes appraised Macurdy coolly, then Klaplanahoo spoke again. “Captain, Macurdy and I are friends from way back. We logged together in Oregon, on opposite ends of a saw, and got bonuses for cutting more than anyone else in camp. And I saw him kill a guy with a knife throw, a guy that had just killed a deputy sheriff and shot the logging boss. He’s not afraid of anyone, and he’s even stronger than me. He’s somebody guys like and respect, and . . .”
Szczpura cut short the plaudits. “Where did you get that nose, Macurdy?”
“A couple of places, sir. Before I joined the army. I’m not a drinking man or troublemaker, sir.”
“You’re AWOL from the hospital and the MPs.”
“Yessir, I am sir.”
The captain pursed his lips thoughtfully, then said, “Come with me, Macurdy,” and led him to the orderly room. Inside, the captain spoke to the 1st sergeant, who sat at a desk with his breakfast in front of him. “Sergeant Barker, this is Sergeant Macurdy; he just arrived as Keith’s replacement. His transfer papers are delayed or lost, but they’ll turn up sooner or later. Have someone take him to Lieutenant Murray, then post him on the roster.”
He turned to Macurdy. “Glad to have you with us, sergeant.” Then added softly: “I hope you don’t make me regret this.”
“Thank you, sir. Glad to be here, sir.”
Almost the last thing Macurdy wanted to do was disappoint this man. As he followed the company clerk to meet his new platoon leader, it seemed to him that in the Army, this miraculous salvation could have happened only in the airborne, and even there, the odds against it had been heavy.