Free Blood Alone by James R. Benn Page B

Biazza Ridge the other day.”
    “Is that where you got that?” Uncle Ike asked, pointing to the bandage wrapped around my head.
    “No, that happened before. Just a scrape.”
    “How did you end up that far east?” His eyes narrowed as he watched me and waited for an answer.
    Again, I figured the truth was the best way to lie. Part of me wanted to tell him everything and ask him what I was supposed to do, but the other part couldn’t face letting him down. Not to mention the fact that I wasn’t sure if I was mixed up in something a commanding general would take kindly to.
    “I was in a field hospital getting bandaged up, and some paratroop officer shanghaied me. Next thing I knew I was on Biazza Ridge, trying not to get run over by a Tiger tank.”
    “Well, William, that’s not what I intended when I sent you on this mission, but I’m glad you were there to lend a hand, and lived through it. Jim Gavin and his boys saved the day, I’ll tell you that.”
    “Do you know about the paratroopers last night, sir?” I didn’t know why I said that. Maybe I wanted to steer the conversation away from me. Maybe I was still haunted by visions of C-47s in flames arcing across the night sky. Uncle Ike’s lips tightened and he looked away. He shook his head slightly and spoke to the ground at his feet.
    “It shouldn’t have happened, William. It shouldn’t have happened. Men die in war, like those boys you fought with on Biazza Ridge. I accept that my role is to send them where they may well be killed. But to have so many die through a goddamn mistake. . . . ” He clenched and unclenched his hands. I saw his eyes race around the GIs surrounding us, perhaps wondering which of them would be dead before nightfall.
    “I’m sorry, Uncle Ike, I didn’t mean—it’s just that I saw it all. I was down by the beach, and I saw it happen. We thought it was an air raid. It was awful. I’m sorry,” I said again, turning away. I felt as if I were confessing, another burden he didn’t need. But I couldn’t help myself, I couldn’t stop the words. “Some of the planes exploded, and some burned as they fell. I watched men jump and parachute into the water. Their chutes were the only things that floated. They all drowned. I was so close but I couldn’t help them. I’m sorry.”
    I looked at the crowd around us, scanning it for MPs who might be out hunting for me, avoiding Uncle Ike’s eyes.
    “William. Look at me.”
    I did.
    “I have to ask you to focus on the job right now. Can you do that? I know it’s tough, and it’s a lot to ask. Can you do it?”
    I wanted to say no, that I needed a good night’s sleep and to get off this damned island. I wanted to tell him there were things I couldn’t remember, and that I was afraid of that dark hole in my mind. That I feared there were memories waiting even worse than those pitiful white parachutes floating on the water. I looked away, then back into his eyes.
    “Yes. Yes, sir. I can. I’m close, General. Not too much longer.”
    “That’s good, William. This is very important. What you do over the next few days will affect the rest of the campaign here and save lives. Plenty of these Italian troops are ready to give up, and I want to hurry that along as much as possible. I’m sorry to put all this on your shoulders, but I know you can do the job. I can’t excuse a member of my family from danger, not when I have to send so many of these boys straight into it. Do you understand, William ?”
    For a second, I thought I saw pleading in those eyes, a desire for me to understand his burden.
    “Yes, I do. Don’t worry, Uncle Ike, I do.” I spoke in a whisper, so no one else would hear, and I gripped tightly as we shook hands.
    He smiled, his eyes lighting up, almost overcoming the dark circles. We stood in the middle of the hot, dusty road, and I knew I had to find out what it was I was supposed to do, and then finish the job for my weary uncle.
    “OK, I’ve got to go,”