By Jane Woods
Lieutenant Gil Hanley trudged through the ankle deep snow of the compound that was the makeshift battalion headquarters. He'd just come from a series of meetings in which they were told that something was going to break soon but the ranking officers were not at liberty to say what. All they really were told was that it would be their job to keep up the morale of the men on the line. The only real break the men were hoping for was a break in the weather. He used to like winter when he was a kid. Winter was closely associated with Christmas.
Christmas, though, would be just another day here, he thought to himself. His reverie was broken when he realized that he heard his name being called. He turned around.
A skinny corporal was making his way gingerly through the snow toward him. 'Kid probably never even saw snow before,' he mused.
"Lieutenant Hanley?" he panted.
"I'm Hanley."
"King Company, right? I have a package here for a Sergeant Saunders. Figured you could take it to him.. ah, if you don't mind, sir," the kid stammered, trying to remember military protocol and keep from freezing to death at the same time.
"Being as it's almost Christmas and all..." the corporal qualified further. "..If it's not too much trouble, that is."
"No trouble. I'll be glad to take it." Hanley reached for the small package.
The corporal brightened. "Thank you, sir. I'd heard you was a regular Joe. Not like some officers. Here. I got lots of others to see to."
With that the young corporal turned and left.
"Who's your friend, Lieutenant?" Kirby asked.
He hadn't seen or heard Kirby's approach. Kirby was far more accustomed to the weather conditions than the young clerk.
"One of Santa's elves, I guess." Hanley smiled. "Package for Saunders."
Kirby glanced down at the brown paper wrapper. "Oh it's from Aunt Polly. Must be Christmas cookies."
"Aunt Polly?"
"Sarge's aunt. He spent a lot of time with her in the summers when he was a kid. She's famous for her cookies."
Hanley looked at him strangely.
"You spend enough time in a foxhole with a guy, you find stuff out." Kirby explained.
"Saunders doesn't seem all that talkative." Hanley commented.
"We all have to take turns." Caje smiled. "It's the only way to shut Kirby up."
"What are you tryin' to imply?" Kirby was insulted.
"Oh nothing." Caje looked away.
Caje and Kirby had brought Littlejohn here to the aid station when he stepped on some shrapnel that had been hidden under the snow.
"Look, I rustled us up a ride back to the front for us with the Bishop boys so the ol' gimp doesn't have to walk that far." Kirby teased Littlejohn, who had just hobbled over to join them.
"Hey, don't knock it. I got a new pair of shoes out of the deal." Littlejohn put in, showing off his brand-new combat boots.
"Yeah, some way to get it though," Kirby teased. "You won't catch anything like that happening to me."
"True. You couldn't step on anything -- your foot's not out of your mouth long enough." Littlejohn countered.
"Now just a darn minute here!!!" Kirby was ready to argue.
"That's enough.' Hanley put an end to it. He knew the good natured ribbing was one of the things that got a guy through but he didn't really have time for it. "You guys hop on the truck with Bishop Company. I have one more meeting to try not to sleep though. I'll catch a ride up in a jeep later."
"Sure thing, Lieutenant" Caje agreed.
"Oh, uh, Lieutenant" Kirby suggested. "How 'bout if we take the Sergeant his cookies. You know how these battalion meetings can go on forever. Be a shame if the Sarge didn't get them in time for Christmas."
"Yeah, a shame for you, you little pig." Caje laughed.
"Hey, the Sarge'll share. I mean it's Christmas, for cryin' out loud."
"You must have a hollow leg." Littlejohn agreed.
"Go, you guys. You'll miss your ride." Hanley urged as he saw the heavy troop truck loading up at the edge of the compound. He handed them the package and shooed them in that direction. Hanley shook his head as the three moved off toward the truck, their argument never missed a beat. Still, Kirby was right about these darn meetings.
He swore they'd be going on even after the war was over and he'd have to attend them for the rest of his life.
* * *
The three men from King Company bunched up at the tailgate of the troop truck waiting their turn to climb onboard.
"Careful," Kirby grouched, as he was shoved from behind. "The sarge's cookies. Ya wanna smash up?" He shook the box at them emphatically.
"You be careful," Littlejohn countered. "You wanna smash 'um?"
"Oh yeah," Kirby grinned sheepishly.
"What's the hold up back there?" the Sergeant from Bishop company hollered from the running board on the passenger side of the truck.
"It's these old guys from King Company, Sarge." a kid called from the back of the truck. "They are having trouble climbing in. Maybe they need a stool."
The good-natured rivalry between the two companies had been with them since Normandy.
"Who you calling old, ya punk?" Kirby demanded, always ready to defend the honor of King Company.
"Get in, I'm freezing." Littlejohn shoved the smaller man into the back of the truck.
"HEEYYYY!!!" Kirby was not expecting it and almost went face first onto the floor of the truck. He put his hands out to stop his fall and the box of cookies went flying and slide down the entire length of the truck. Kirby scampered after it but not before someone from Bishop company scooped it up off the floor.
"Give it here." Kirby demanded.
"Give what here?" the soldier asked 'innocently', tossing the box over Kirby's head to one of his buddies.
"Now look you son of a ----" Kirby rounded on the other man but the elusive box of cookies was once more airborne.
The game of keep - away continued till Littlejohn was on board. He caught the box mid-flight and glared at the men of Bishop company. "Got a problem here, Kirby?" he asked in his meanest voice. His size alone was enough to silence Kirby's antagonists.
"No problem, Littlejohn." Kirby joined in the glare. "No problem, at all."
He and Little john sat on the end of one of the wooden benches that lined the back of the truck. Caje settled in directly across from them. "Gimme the cookies." Kirby hissed at Littlejohn under his breath.
"Not on your life." Littlejohn vowed, placing the box safely on the floor."You can't hold onto them."
Kirby had every intention of arguing farther but the massive truck started up at that moment and the noisy engine drowned out all conversation.
Despite the weight of the truck, the ice under the snow caused it to fishtail a few times. One especially wild maneuver caused the box of cookies to slid across the floor of the truck and end up right under Caje's feet. The driver, attempting to right the truck, steered quickly in the opposite direction. Caje lost his balance and slammed onto the floor missing the box of cookies by mere inches.
"CAJE!!! BE CAREFUL!!" Kirby hollered.
After a bone jarring impact with the floor Caje's first concern was not the box of cookies. After a quick personal inventory of his body, he began a tirade of his own, questioning both Kirby's lineage and legitimacy. Luckily, he spoke in French - not that Kirby could have probably heard him anyway. Slowly he picked himself back up off the floor. Both Kirby and Littlejohn were frantically pointing at the box. The floor was not a good place for it to be. He picked it up and put it on the bench beside him.
This also proved to be a mistake given the slippery road conditions. Once more the truck began to slide. The box of cookies sailed right off the bench and out of the opening above the tailgate.
It took several minutes of complete chaos before the men in the back were able to get the driver to stop the truck. Kirby and Caje were out of the truck in a flash and running back down the road they had traveled.
The Bishop Company Sergeant, came around to the back of the truck to demand an explanation. Once Littlejohn explained the Sergeant ordered his own men out of the truck to join in the search. Sergeants had to stick together, he told them.
The brown paper wrapper on the box should have stood out against the white snow even in the grayish light of the winter's day. They tracked back almost half a mile on both sides of the road but there was no sign of the box.
"It can't have just vanished!" Kirby complained with disgust.
"Well, there's no sign of it. It's freezing out here and we have to get back on schedule."
"Come on, Sarge." Kirby begged. "They'll hold the war up a little longer. It's Christmas almost."
"The Krauts might hold up but Lieutenant Ames sure as hell won't. We gotta go."
The Sarge was firm. "We searched every inch of ground for a mile in each direction. The box just ain't there."
"I'm afraid he's right, Kirby." Caje reluctantly agreed.
"I know but..." Kirby began looking up then suddenly brightened. "Well, will ya lookee there?" He pointed to a nearby evergreen tree. Just above eye-level on a cushion of freshly fallen snow rested the familiar brown box. "Gimme a boost, Caje."
Caje complied and Kirby carefully retrieved the box. He gave it a tentative little shake.
"Sounds alright."
"Want me to take it up front with me?" the Sarge asked as they all trudged back to the waiting transport.
"No thanks, Sarge. I ain't letting this baby out a my grasp till I put it into Saunders' own hands." Kirby vowed.
Within minutes the truck was once more underway. There were no more incidents and eventually the three men from King Company were let out so they could hike the last mile or so cross country to their own position.
Kirby's spirits were high and he was in a talkative mood. The other two did their best to ignore him. This only encouraged Kirby to be more exuberant in his conversation and less attentive to where he was walking. He stumbled into a snow drift that had no solid ground under it. He lost his balance and started to slide down an embankment. He managed to stay on his feet and hold the precious box up high over his head. He finally ended up on his keister in another snow drift but he still had a firm hold on the box of cookies.
Half an hour later the three men came to the place where King Company was dug in. They excitedly took turns relating all the adventures the cookies had had on their way to him as they handed Saunders the box. He simply nodded and put the box down next to him.
"Aren't you gonna open it?!" Kirby all but squealed.
"Why? You already told me what it was."
"Well er it might not be -- besides I think you should make sure they are alright after the trip they had." Kirby fumbled.
"Okay." Saunders sighed and picked up the box. The other three gathered around close while he removed the wrappings and opened the box. The Toll House cookies were all completely intact.
"Lookee there." Kirby laughed "Not a one broken -- just like the day they left the States ---- er - what are you doing, Sarge."
Saunders put the box down on the ground beside him. He took off his helmet and, holding it by it's chin strap brought it down full force onto the small box.
"Sarge!!! Are you nuts?!" escaped Kirby before he could stop himself.
"What?" Saunders looked up.
"Er - ub - I mean..." Kirby fumbled. Littlejohn and Caje looked as shocked as he did remembering all they had gone through to get the cookies to the Sarge in good shape.
"This is the way I like them." Saunders shrugged picking up a piece of cookie and digging out a chocolate chip. "Easier to get at the chips. They are my favorite part. That's how I go my nickname." He laughed at the memory.
'Chip Saunders' each of the three men said to themselves allowing the light to dawn on the connection.
"Besides, " Saunders continued gruffly "This way there's more pieces to share. Here. Kirby, pass 'um around."
"Thanks, Ch- er I mean Sarge." Kirby brightened. He grabbed a handful of broken cookies and after Caje and Littlejohn had taken a more respectful amount Kirby headed down the hill to share the cookies with the rest of the company but he turned back to the other three men suddenly. "Hey, Sarge?"
"Yeah, Kirby?"
"Merry Christmas" Kirby called, around a mouth full of cookies.
"Yeah." Saunders grunted, he shared a half grin with Caje and Littlejohn and went back to cleaning his gun. 'Merry Christmas,' he said to himself and for a few minutes let his thoughts wonder to his Aunt Polly and happier times.
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