Arrival [ota]
Getting back to the line was all that Joe Toye thought about as he lay in the aid station with his arm in a sling. He was scheduled to leave for the hospital tomorrow, but he didn't want to go. He had already gave his spot yesterday to a man who lost his arm. A hospital meant weeks away from the front line. Away from Easy Company and his friends. That wasn't going to happen. Joe made sure he was on the next transport vehicle back to the line.
As he trudged through the snow, Joe could see the men of Easy. They looked worn and tired. Despite Captain Winters reassurances that he didn't need to be joining them in his condition, Joe shook his head and took his arm out of the sling. He wanted to be back with his friends, side-by-side with them in the foxhole. He had already been away for too damn long.
Then the artillery fire came. It came down on them like explosive hail. Joe was caught in the middle of it and without a foxhole to take cover in. He started in the direction he knew there were the foxholes were, but it was too late. Joe Toye was hit.
The explosion knocked him out and when he was conscious again, he was in shock. Looking down, he saw his leg. Only his leg was a foot away from the rest of his body. Panicked filled him. He knew he had to get up and into a foxhole before the Germans sent another round of artillery fire their way. But he couldn't stand up, despite his attempts to try. He tried to drag himself, but he couldn't pull himself far enough or fast enough, even with the help from his gun. He was struggling, desperately, telling himself and to God that he needed to get up, needed to get out of the open.
Bill. Bill Gaurnere was shouting and running over. Before Joe knew it, Bill was dragging him in the direction of the foxholes. Bill was putting his life on the line for him. It was stupid and dangerous and Joe loved the son-of-a-bitch for it.
And the Germans attacked again. He could hear Lieutenant Compton yelling at them, yelling how they were going to be hit. And they were. Bill and Joe were hit.
When Joe came to again he could see Bill. Bill had lost his leg like Joe had and both of them were lying in the red snow, uselessly. Things happened fast. Doc was over and Buck was towering over them.
"Jesus Christ, what does a guy have to do to get killed around here?!" Joe closed his eyes. The pain finally outweighed the shock, but then it all disappeared. His eyes shot open and he wasn't in a forest. He wasn't lying in snow.
And his leg wasn't gone.
Joe's mind reeled. While any other man might have stared dumbly at his leg for hours, Joe Toye was quick to his feet. His uniform was bloodied, especially where his right leg had been blown off. Or had it? Was it all a dream? Or maybe he was dead and this was the afterlife. He ran a shaky hand through his short-trimmed hair.
As he trudged through the snow, Joe could see the men of Easy. They looked worn and tired. Despite Captain Winters reassurances that he didn't need to be joining them in his condition, Joe shook his head and took his arm out of the sling. He wanted to be back with his friends, side-by-side with them in the foxhole. He had already been away for too damn long.
Then the artillery fire came. It came down on them like explosive hail. Joe was caught in the middle of it and without a foxhole to take cover in. He started in the direction he knew there were the foxholes were, but it was too late. Joe Toye was hit.
The explosion knocked him out and when he was conscious again, he was in shock. Looking down, he saw his leg. Only his leg was a foot away from the rest of his body. Panicked filled him. He knew he had to get up and into a foxhole before the Germans sent another round of artillery fire their way. But he couldn't stand up, despite his attempts to try. He tried to drag himself, but he couldn't pull himself far enough or fast enough, even with the help from his gun. He was struggling, desperately, telling himself and to God that he needed to get up, needed to get out of the open.
Bill. Bill Gaurnere was shouting and running over. Before Joe knew it, Bill was dragging him in the direction of the foxholes. Bill was putting his life on the line for him. It was stupid and dangerous and Joe loved the son-of-a-bitch for it.
And the Germans attacked again. He could hear Lieutenant Compton yelling at them, yelling how they were going to be hit. And they were. Bill and Joe were hit.
When Joe came to again he could see Bill. Bill had lost his leg like Joe had and both of them were lying in the red snow, uselessly. Things happened fast. Doc was over and Buck was towering over them.
"Jesus Christ, what does a guy have to do to get killed around here?!" Joe closed his eyes. The pain finally outweighed the shock, but then it all disappeared. His eyes shot open and he wasn't in a forest. He wasn't lying in snow.
And his leg wasn't gone.
Joe's mind reeled. While any other man might have stared dumbly at his leg for hours, Joe Toye was quick to his feet. His uniform was bloodied, especially where his right leg had been blown off. Or had it? Was it all a dream? Or maybe he was dead and this was the afterlife. He ran a shaky hand through his short-trimmed hair.