|
|
|
|
I
December 18, 1943
Gibraltar was a fortress quietly under siege. The forces of Nazi Germany were growing across the European continent, ending only at the receding Steppes of Russia to the east and the tiny, impenetrable fort at the tip of the Iberian peninsula to the west.
The great stone pillars jutted out of the sea as if in command of it. Seagulls flitted about the exterior, enjoying the mild winter and playing in the strong unpredictable winds around the great rock. Inside, British soldiers and sailors grimly manned anti-aircraft guns looking above and watched the submarine netting below with a withering intensity. The British Navy still ruled the seas, but German U-boats were everywhere.
A small coastal patrol boat gunned its engine and sidled up to the pier on the Atlantic side. British Navy hands pulled it in and secured it to the dock as seven men jumped off, each shouldering a duffel bag and weapon. A quick wave from the boats captain and it was released again, turning briskly away in the choppy seas and heading back toward the Atlantic.
Inside the fortress, away from the cold spray and salty ocean air, the seven stopped and checked their gear. It was a busy, wide corridor where supplies for the fortress and passing ships were carried in and out. An officer in an RN uniform and carrying a clipboard approached the seven.
"Good day. Which of you is Fury?" His accent was pure Cambridge.
Fury stepped forward and saluted. "Sgt. Nicholas Fury, and First Ranger Commandos, reporting."
"Yes, I've heard of you. American Commandos. Just doesn't sound right. Still, if your fighting prowess... I say! Pinky Pinkerton!"
Pinky stood smiling and saluted. "I say, Froggy! Oh, dear - Commander Aitcheson."
"Well. If you'll take your gear and follow me I'll see to you." The Commander winked at Pinky as the Howlers grabbed their gear. Around the first corner they were stopped as mob of officers and men blocked the wide passage shouting and waving autograph books.
"Tommy Dorsey?" Fury asked.
"Naw," Dino answered, "he's back in New York right now. I was telling him to hook up with Clark Gable, but he didn't..."
"Stow it, glamour-boy."
"Actually," Commander Aitcheson said excitedly, "It's your Captain America. He's passing through to... Sorry, chaps. Can't say."
"Don't say. Lets just get through." Fury pushed ahead through the crowd, followed by the Howlers and Aitcheson. As he pushed through, he caught a good look at Captain America standing in the middle of the pack, talking calmly to the excited men around him.
The colours of his uniform were bold and stood out as though lit from within, set against the drably-dressed servicemen around him. The red white and blue chainmail of his uniform was wet from ocean spray and the constantly dripping concrete ceiling, and glinted in the light. As Fury looked at the Captain's face, his eyes widened and he stopped pushing for a second.
Quickly surrounded, Fury started ahead again. Soon he and the Howlers were in the open, and followed Aitcheson to their temporary quarters.
"You Yanks leave in six hours. I suggest you rest. If you need anything, see the duty officer." Aitcheson turned to leave, and then stopped. "Godspeed, Pinky."
"And to you, Commander."
The door clanged shut and the Howlers were left in the cold, dimly lit barracks room. Reb Ralston pulled out his deck of cards.
"Who heah`s got some pay left?"
As the poker game got started, Dugan came over to sit next to Fury. "Did you see what I saw?"
"Yup. That's our hero. Keep it under your fedora, Dum Dum."
"Yeah, Nick, I figger it's an O-fficial state secret anyhow. We'd probably have to do a mountain paper work just to think about it."
The men played poker, with Ralston taking the first hand as though it was his birthright. Fury sat on his bunk and began to relax - for the first time in three days. Izzy Cohen drifted away from the game and sat beside Fury and Dugan.
"Excuse me, Sarge, but I couldn't help noticing you looked at Captain America awful funny. Almost like you knew him."
Fury thought for a moment, then spoke. "It was about two years ago, at Fort Bragg, stateside..."
Dugan interrupted: "Hold on Nick. We can't just..."
"Hell with it, Dum Dum. If we can't trust a Howler, who can we trust?" Fury turned back to Izzy: "It wuz before the Howlers were formed. Me an' Dum Dum was just a couple of new recruits in the Rangers, fresh from livin' the good life in Europe. Uncle Adolph changed all that.
"We was walking across the parade grounds when I sees this Sargent pushin' around a bunch of kid recruits. I was new to the army and I didn't know how far some top Sargents would go in training. This fella starts ripping into his kids, one in particular. A big kid, blonde, real handy looking. Looked like he could lift a deuce-and-a-half truck. Terrible soldier, though. Three left feet.
"Well, I was just enjoy`n his use o`colourful language, when the Sargent goes and hits the blonde kid. The kid drops to the dirt, and I come runnin'."
"Yeah," Dugan said quietly, smiling, "Nick charged like a bull. 'Not in this man's army you don't!' he wuz yellin. The Sargent didn't know what to say. Nick hit him so hard it knocked out three of his teeth. 'How'd ya like that?' he yelled; 'Are you trained yet, ya gorilla?!'"
Fury cut in "I should'a hit him harder. He got up and blindsided me when I was trying to walk away. His buddies were gonna move in and finish me off, but Dum Dum here convinced 'em not to." Dugan smiled and flexed a 22-inch bicep. "I get up and I'm ready to go after it with this NCO, when outta nowhere comes this animal in a Corporal's uniform. Looked like a circus gorilla.
"'You Sargents outta yer minds?' the gorilla says. Yer brawlin' here in the middle of the parade square with three platoons watchin'. Ya want an officer should see this and you both go to the stockade for the duration?' He says. Come to the baseball diamond at midnight. I'll make sure it's lit. Sort it out then.'
"He walks off, and so do we. We`re outta our bunks at half past eleven that night. Me an' Dum Dum headed out through the woods to the baseball diamond, about a mile out of camp. We can just see the lights from the field, when they jump us. We was half asleep or we woulda seen it comin'. We got about twenty US Army Rangers beatin on us before we can do anything. We were both knocked out pretty quick," Dum Dum nodded in agreement, "so the rest of it's been a mystery until now.
"We woke up just before midnight - soaked. Somebody had dumped a bucket of water on us. There was a platoon of veteran Rangers asleep all around us. They'd been beaten like homemade bread dough. There was nobody else there - not even the one who dumped the water on us - so we took off for the field.
"The sarge and the corporal was there, along with another couple'a the sarge's thugs. They see us and look right surprised. So I says: 'What are you monkeys waitin' for?' and I go for the sarge. That wasn't good enough for him, though; his guys come after me and Dum Dum, both of us still a little worse for wear after gettin' beat in the woods."
Dum Dum leaned forward on the bunk and lowered his voice as Izzy listened intently: "So the corporal says: 'That ain't fair!' and starts into the other goons. He hit one fella so hard he ain't woke up yet. Another one he hit and left a fist hole in his chest. Nick took care of the sarge and I piled the rest up on the pitchers mound."
Izzy whispered excitedly, "So that was Captain America? The corporal that looked like a gorilla? It wasn't that Sargent, wuz it?"
"The sarge with the bad manners is still in the Rangers. That was the first time I met Bull McGiveney."
"Then the corporal? They say Captain America hits that hard."
"Nope. That was Corporal Dix. One of the toughest guys I ever met. I hear he bought it in Sicily."
"So who was..?"
"The private. The buck private with the blonde hair and three left feet knocked a Ranger platoon halfway to the next war I never seen him again after that first day Until today. Top secret, Izzy."
"You got it, Sarge." Izzy moved back to the poker game as Ralston lost a hand for once. Dino collected the pot.
II
December 19, 1943
The ammunition supply depot at Point-du-Lac was lit by floodlights and an exceptionally bright moon. It had been built up over the summer by German and POW labour in anticipation of a resistance by the occupied French which had never materialized. The town of Point-du-Lac a few kilometers down the dirt road was quiet. The region was quiet. Most of the officers of the Waffen SS had mistresses among the local women, and the enlisted men were welcome at nearly all the whorehouses. Colonel Heinrich had gained 12 pounds just since July.
Still, there was a war on, and the offensive into Russia threatened to draw more manpower from the occupation forces, though that hadn't happened yet. There was a triple shift of guards at the perimeter, and heavy machineguns at 20-meter intervals along the fence line. The depot supported the entire district, and was a worthy target for any resistance that might form in the area. Still, most of the German soldiers ate at their posts, the mild winter having saved the harvest of fruit.
In the Summer it had been difficult to keep the killing zone free of underbrush. The wine country soil did not like to remain barren, but the area around the fence needed to be clear to prevent anyone from approaching without being seen. As the Fall weather killed the foliage, the local boys with sickles were not needed and had gone back to their farms and shops.
The Colonel, adjusting his trousers which were now a size too small, walked the perimeter after supper. He greeted each man and addressed him by name. At station 5 he was offered wine, which he accepted but warned the men to put it away until their duty was over. At 7 pm he approached station 12, and all hell broke loose.
The door to the small bunker was ajar. Heinrich nodded his head and clucked his tongue like a schoolmaster. He swung the door fully open and walked in.
The first thing he saw was a dead man. The next thing he saw was five Americans.
"Vas?!" The Colonel turned and ran a step outside, firing his Luger randomly. "Raus! Raus!" He looked around for his men, shouting a warning, but saw no one.
A pair of hands, impossibly strong, lifted him in the air, his legs still churning like a cartoon, and pulled him back inside. The punch that knocked him out concussed him, and he was never able to see out of his left eye again.
"Get that Kraut officer bundled up good - we might need him later." The voice was hushed, but it carried a steel resolve that was unmistakable.
"Way ahead of you, Nick." Dum Dum Dugan hefted the 18 stone Colonel as though he was lifting a petulant child, while Dino Minelli bound his hands and feet.
"I say, why didn't you become an officer, Sgt?"
Fury looked at Pinky Pinkerton like he had used obscene language in a convent. "Cause I like to work with my hands. Are you Howlers ready to fight, or are we gonna set up a tea party and invite the rest o`the Kraut army that ain't heard us yet?"
"Sorry, Sahge," Reb Ralston drawled apologetically, "I didn't see these heah gaurds until it was too late. Must be losing mah touch."
"Forget about it, Reb. Okay, the whole blamed Hermann Goering Division is probably right outside that door. Is anybody interested in retreating back into the woods and trying this again next week?"
Fury looked around at the stone faces of his men. "Okay, then, we do it the hard way." He picked up his Thompson submachinegun, cocked it, and kicked the door off its hinges. There was no sound.
He jumped out the door, rolling and firing. The Howlers leapt out after him, taking positions in a semi-circle and covering the interior grounds with overlapping fire. Nobody moved. No Germans were in sight.
"Izzy!" Izzy Cohen silently moved out of the shadows of the next bunker and crouched next to Fury. "How many of the bunkers did you and Gabe take out before we got here?"
"Well, Sarge, I was just gonna do the east side, but I got started and ended up doin' the whole perimeter. I followed that Colonel around and took out the bunkers after he checked them," Izzy smiled, embarassed, "I guess I just like my work."
"You could'a told me. Alright you heroes," Fury got up from his crouch, "looks like Izzy stole our whole blamed night's work. Alright, set the charges and we'll get out of here."
"Hey!" The voice echoed from the low buildings in front of them in the center of the ammo dump. "Are you guys done shooting yet?" Gabe Jones walked toward them with his rifle over his shoulder. "Did y'all see a bird or something?"
"Gabe!" Izzy ran over to him, "did you get the rest of them?"
"Yup. All clear. They wuzn't expecting us Brooklyn Dodgers to show up so far from Ebbet's Field."
"Okay, if you comedians are done tryin' out for the next Bob Hope picture, let's blow this dump and get out of here. Major Beaudry's expectin' us."
The Howlers scattered around the now quiet base, setting their satchel charges on the covered munitions. It took several minutes of running, and they met in a clearing to the north.
Without a word, they connected their wires to the central charge box. Izzy assembled it and handed the box to Fury who, without hesitation, turned the small generator crank handle, which sent the fatal spark to the charges.
The explosion is remembered in that part of France into the millennium. It knocked down trees and shattered windows for miles around. The ground shook and the smell of gunpowder was in all the food and drink at the tavern, and the many wells of the farm country.
The Howlers were buried, but had expected to be and dug themselves out with little difficulty. They checked their equipment and started running, deeper into the medieval forest, jumping over and crouching under fallen trees and underbrush.
Finally, after an hour, they stopped at a hunters` shack in the heart of the wood. There was a wisp of smoke coming from the slender chimney and cooking smells coming from inside. Fury was the first one through the door.
Major Beaudry stood by the stove. "I heard your success. I'm sure the entire region heard the explosion. Congratulations Sargent. I have prepared a meal."
Fury raised his Tommy gun: "Why'd you do it, Beaudry? I thought you wuz Free France?"
Beaudry looked shocked. "Do what? Put that down! I've done nothing!"
Without taking his eyes off the Major, Fury said to the Howlers: "Outside and get defensive. We got incoming."
"What`s goin on, Nick?" Dugan advanced into the shack.
"This rat sold us out, Dum Dum. He`s cookin rations from the supply shipment the Germans intercepted last week. They wanted us to come here for a reason - and they didn`t care about the ammo dump. We gotta get moving before they make a move."
Beaudry looked down at the meat on the stove and cursed. There was no mistaking the American brand of rations, and no place else the tin could have come from. He caught Fury`s eye as he considered his position.
"Whatever yer thinkin`about, Beaudry, ferget it. It`s all over for you."
"That remains to be seen, Sargent."
From outside, an eerie sound started. It was as though someone was calling out from a distant room in a large house. Then, the report of gunfire - Tommy guns. Dugan grabbed the French Major and carried him like a doll. They ran outside and stopped in their tracks. Dugan dropped the Major, who landed hard on the ground and lost his breath for a moment.
The Howlers stood, hands in the air, in a line. They looked to Fury and Dugan with wild, fearful eyes.
In front of them stood three monstrosities that should never have existed on the earth. Standing fifteen feet in height, the creatures were blurry, as though they were in a movie shown by a bad projector. They stood on hind legs that were bent back, as a cat`s legs. Their arms were long and disjointed, and ended in what appeared to be cannons, but it was hard to tell. Their heads were like vast insect heads, which bobbed and looked sideways and never stopped moving. The Howlers felt the darkness and vileness of the creatures throughout their bodies.
"Get up, Beaudry. I want you to introduce me to your new friends." A German officer, in SS uniform but unusually unkempt and with an unusually slouching, slow demeanor, stepped from behind the creatures. "I am your new master, Colonel Krietzer. I represent the Second Decade Force of the Thousand-Year Reich."
Fury looked at the creatures and then at the German. "Swell."
