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Crossover Combat! (WHN) – Ironside (WHB)
Sgt. Saunders influences someone's life in an unexpected way.
Warning for the fans of Robert Ironside: This is a back-story for Ed Brown. Unfortunately for you, the Chief will not show up.*
Summer 1945, Eureka Station, San Francisco
Sergeant Saunders was in no hurry. Tomorrow he would fly to Hawaii and from there to one of the war theaters in the Pacific. But today he would take the time to do what he liked. He would have lunch with a friend, and right now he enjoyed seeing normal people do what they did on a normal day:
Two teenage girls huddled together and under their breath they exchanged some obviously hilarious news. Men with briefcases tried to look busy and important. A woman had probably intended to wear her pink dress in the morning, but changed her mind after putting lipstick on: At any rate it did not fit together with her green gown. But then the high heels in light blue did not either. An elderly lady explained to her dachshund why he had to stop before crossing the road.
Normal life… that sounded so un-exciting. Some people took it for granted. Yet for the members of the military forces it was important enough to put their lives in the line to protect it. Normal life was the best thing that could happen to people.
Two children caught his attention. One of the boys obviously had Down syndrome. He was about ten or twelve years old – it was difficult to assess children with this disease - and had the typical stocky built. He was beaming with joy and chatting happily to his companion. This was not a parent or a guardian but a little boy of about six years. Saunders would not have stared at a handicapped person, but he could not help being amused about the little one in charge. Predominantly he seemed to consist of very thin legs which stuck out of blue shorts. The earnest face under the neatly parted brown hair was a little too square-jawed for such a young child, but apart from that unremarkable, except for his brown eyes which could have belonged to a puppy dog. The scene made Saunders smile because the boy was obviously a real gentleman: Not only did he yield to several people who seemed to be in a hurry, he also opened the door for an old man with a cane and picked a lady's handkerchief up for her. What a polite, gallant little fellow, almost like some French he had met during the past year! Yet when the kid returned to his brother – or was he his friend? - Saunders noticed that he was not just polite or well-educated. He cared for the handicapped boy in a very tender, protective way.
Saunders followed the two kids – or rather they chose the same direction as he did. They were the only passengers boarding the street car towards West Portal. Most of the passengers traveled downtown at this time of the day.
Out of habit Saunders took a seat at the rear end so he could overlook the entire car. The bigger boy wanted to look out of the rear window. Protectively the small one tried to get him to sit down. The handicapped one didn't stop chatting.
"Eddie, look!" Saunders did not understand most of what he said, but he learned that his name was Lenny and that Eddie was his friend.
His deference to the small boy grew: He was behaving like an adult, patient, caring, considerate. Mostly he just listened, but when an unexpected movement of the wagon jarred Lenny, Eddie was there to prevent him from hitting his head.
Suddenly hell broke loose. Saunders heard the deafening bang of an explosion. He was thrown off his seat. He crashed hard into the one in front of him.
His right arm took the brunt of the impact and Saunders felt it break. The lights went out.
One of the children started to scream.
Parts of the ceiling covering fell down, then stones, sand, rocks.
The air was filled with thick dust, mixed with smoke, making breathing difficult.
Sounders could not see a fire yet, but a short circuit might have caused a smoldering fire.
Was this a Japanese attack? Or an accident? He had no way of knowing.
Training and instincts let him stay calm. He found in his pocket the small flashlight he had gotten just days before. He switched it on.
Its purpose was to give enough light to find a door lock in the dark, not to assess the damage in a disaster. It would not last long.
The streetcar ended two seats in front of him under debris. Sounders doubted that the driver could have survived.
Other sounds mixed with the one of falling rubble…
One of the children was still crying, but the other tried to appease him – this had to be Eddie.
When he saw the beam of the flashlight he approached Saunders.
He had a bloody graze on his leg. For such a small child this must be painful, but the brave little fellow would not want to cry.
"Sir, are you all right?" he asked instead and started coughing.
"My arm is broken. What about your friend?" Lenny's crying had softened to a sob.
"He hurt his leg. Maybe it is broken too. Could you please help me get him out of here?"
It was incredible: in the middle of Armageddon this boy was still polite! Obviously his manners prevented him from panicking, same as discipline his soldiers.
"Eddie – that's your name, isn't it? – we are in this together. Together we will get out."
It was easier said than done, but there was no alternative.
"Can you see anything I could use as a sling for my arm?" he asked.
He looked around, but everything seemed to be torn to pieces around him. Just for a second his gaze rested on the child's long-sleeved shirt.
Eddie understood this as a hint and took it off. He knotted the two sleeves together. "Is this what you mean? I'm Edward D. Brown … Ed."
In spite of the bad situation they were in Saunders almost laughed out loud. This kid knew how to tackle a problem!
They both turned towards Lenny, who was still sobbing. "Let's go, Lenny. This man will help you. Get up."
Helped by Saunders, Lenny rose to his one good foot.
The rear door of the street car was twisted and they had no chance of opening it.
Ed looked out of one of the broken windows. Only now he seemed to realize what Saunders had heard minutes earlier: Where there had been the railway tracks, there was now a powerful stream! The explosion must have hit a body of water.
The smoke seemed to become thicker. They had to hurry to get away from it.
Saunders climbed out of a broken window and let himself down into the water, using his left arm only. Now he was grateful for every push-up he had done in the past!
The water was too deep for either of the children; they would not be able to walk in it, not even with Saunders' help. They would be swept away immediately.
"Ed, I will have to carry you."
"I see. I'll wait here until you come back."
"Eddie, I don't know if there will be time to come back later."
In the dim light it looked to him as if the boy understood what this meant. He nodded.
Saunders didn't know much about Down Syndrome, but he knew people like Lenny didn't usually live very long. Saunders had to save Ed… not to mention the fact that his chances of getting through the water in one piece were considerably higher with skinny Ed than with Lenny who had to be more than twice his weight.
As if Ed had read his mind he said: "Please take Lenny out before he panics."
Either way these puppy-dog eyes would haunt Saunders for the rest of his life: if he neglected Ed's wish and saved him, but also if he saved Lenny and… He blocked every thought about the consequences.
Against better judgment he gave in: "I will. But I can't leave you here. If the overhead electric lines come in contact with the water it could get very dangerous."
He meant 'deadly' but did not want to frighten the boy. He and fire had a history. The risk of fire worried him more than anything else. "There's a niche over there in the wall. Perhaps you can stay there."
"You keep very still, Lenny. Don't you worry, this man will not let anything happen to you," said Ed calmly and climbed out of the window.
The powerful streaming would have swept the child out of the niche too, but there was an iron hook. "Hold fast onto it, Ed!" ordered Saunders.
Of course the kid would not be able to do this for a long time. Therefore the Sergeant took off his own belt and pulled it through the hook. "Now fix this around your body."
Meanwhile Lenny had started to cry again.
"Thank you for bringing him out," said Ed, and Saunders' heart cramped at the thought that this could very well be his last words.
He went back to the street car and stretched out his arm towards Lenny: "Come here, Lenny, let's go."
With his left arm he pulled the boy through the broken window and sat him on his hip. He was quite heavy to be carried that way.
Saunders had to concentrate on where to put his feet in the water.
The mix of smoke and dust in the air made him cough.
Lenny was quiet now, and trustfully he clung to the strong Sergeant. But to Saunders he seemed to become heavier with every step. This was as tough as any ordeal in France he had gone through.
After what seemed to be an eternity he reached an elevated point.
Out of breath, he put Lenny down. He was at the end of his rope, and his right arm hurt like hell.
Lenny would be more or less secure here. The air was much better here than near the center of the explosion. Sometime somebody would show up.
But what about Ed, whom he had left behind? Saunders had no way of knowing if he was still alive.
Should he go on and try to gather some men to help him get Eddie out? But how long would this take? And how much time would remain to safe the boy?
The thought of the small child drowning slowly or fighting for breath and possibly choking made him sick.
No, he had to go back, no matter how exhausted he was. Every minute might count. Help might arrive too late.
"Wait here, Lenny. I must try to get Ed."
He was not sure if Lenny understood. But Saunders had to risk leaving him here.
Now Saunders had to fight against the current. The water seemed to get higher, and breathing became more difficult again. His chances of getting through to the child were minimal…
Author's notes:
*This may seem odd to you. May I suggest to read my profile before posting an angry review?
Thank you very much, dear "Hamlette", for introducing me to 'Combat' and to Saunders and for helping me getting him in character!
Thank you very much, dear 'Jodm', for helping me with the historical and geographical facts and for correcting the story!