Changes

National Archives

1Lt Paddock was coming down the trail to where 1st Squad was bivouacked, he had a new man with him. Hebert was the first to notice, he nudged Gammell and said, "Check it out Charlie, new meat."

Gammell gave his buddy Bear an annoyed look, "We're all new at some point, but this guy doesn't look new, not even a little bit."

"Hey Bear, where's your squad leader?"

"He's over in that dugout we've been working on."

"Thanks, come on Gentile. Oh, yeah, this is Flavio Gentile, he's in your squad now. He's just getting back from hospital, he took one in the chest on D + 10. He's all better now."

The new man chuckled and said, "Two inches to the right I'd be dead, an inch to the left I'd be back in the States. But here I am, all better now."

Paddock and the new man found Sgt Jack Wilson deep in conversation with his assistant squad leader, Cpl Melvin Katz, "Cat" to his buddies. Cat was pissed off, Duck had managed to damage his B.A.R. and the company armorer had told them it was unsalvageable.

"Well, that's just wonderful, but hey, we're not supposed to have two..." Wilson noticed his lieutenant standing by, waiting. "Oh, hey L.T., what can I do you for?"

"Cuppla things, first, we received some new guys this morning, this one is yours, Private First Class Flavio Gentile." The lieutenant pronounced the new guy's name "gen tile," which immediately made Cat laugh.

"Hey, L.T., to me you're all gentiles!"

Before Paddock could respond, the new guy spoke, "Hey lootenant, it's pronounced 'gen tee lay,' come on, don't they teach youse guys Italian at West Point?"

"Where you from?" Wilson thought the accent sounded familiar.

"Philly."

Jumping back in so that the men didn't wander too far down the "old home week" path, the lieutenant said, "Okay, PFC Gentile," he pronounced it correctly this time, "was hit on D + 10, he's been in the hospital since then. He was in another battalion in the division, now he's ours. He's been a rifleman since day one, which was?" He glanced at Gentile.

"North Africa lootenant."

"So yeah, he's been around. I'll leave you to get acquainted. Oh, by the way, I have good news and bad news."

Wilson and Katz both sighed, Wilson spoke, "Tell us the bad news first L.T."

"You've got to turn in one of your B.A.R.s, sorry but you're only supposed to have one."

Katz started laughing, then stopped and said, "That's okay L.T., apparently Duck broke his, the armorer says it's a wreck. I'm gonna need another Garand now."

"So what's the good news L.T.?" Wilson chimed in.

"Gentile, hand me that bag I gave you to carry."

"No problem lootenant, it was gettin' kinda heavy anyways."

"Open 'er up Jack."

Wilson proceeded to do just that, inside were two Thompson submachine guns, new webbing for both weapons, and extra magazines, already loaded. "Damn. Who gets these?"

"You get one, Cat gets one. Cap'n wants his NCOs to carry these. Kraut sergeants all seem to have submachine guns, Cap'n felt we should too. So he traded for 'em."

"What did he trade?" Cat had to ask, he was the curious type.

"You didn't hear it from me, but he traded battalion's extra Jeep."

"Whoa, the major ain't gonna be happy." Wilson commented.

"I know, right now he thinks the Belgians stole it."

"Why would he think that?"

"Because our First Sergeant told him that. I have no intention of questioning that, I mean the First Sergeant knows everything, right?"

As Wilson and Katz were both examining their new weapons, they had been semi-ignoring the lieutenant. "Uh, right Sir, whatever you say Sir." Wilson grinned as he said it.

"So where is that B.A.R. that Duck broke?"

"The armorer, Tech Corporal Bastien kept it. Said we had too many anyhow. Bastard wouldn't give me another Garand though." Katz was still a little pissed at that.

"Well, you have two extra Garands now. Give him one of those." PFC Gentile offered that suggestion.

"There you go." the lieutenant said. "Your new guy is already fitting right in. I'll leave you gentlemen to it. Carry on."

"Yessir, L.T.!" Both Wilson and Katz barked that out.

After the lieutenant left, Cat looked at Wilson and said, "How 'bout that, we got ourselves a couple of Tommy guns!"

"Yeah, we'd fit right in in Chicago."

"Philly too." Gentile offered.

Both men laughed, then Wilson said, "Okay, Gentile, you're going to Cat's section, Cat send McWhorter over here, tell him he's Cajun's assistant on the B.A.R. seeing as how Duck is now just another rifleman."

As Katz and Gentile started to walk away, Wilson spoke up again, "One last thing, Gentile you gotta nickname?"

"The guys in my old squad called me Philly."

"All right, Philly it is, unless you earn a new one."

"Gotcha Sarge."

"Why did L.T. give you guys Thompsons?" McWhorter, one of the new recruits they'd received before getting into Germany, wanted to know.

"Well, Mac, Garands have the range, so does the B.A.R., but in these woods, range doesn't mean all that much. Sometimes you just want to bring down fire on the Krauts as fast as possible. Thompsons are good at that. The .45 round won't carry that far, but if it hits you, you're going down."

Pvt Virgil Kennedy chimed in, "They're good for city fighting too."

Having heard of the fighting in Aachen, which had just begun, everyone got real quiet.

"Wonderful, just wonderful. I hadn't thought of that Virg, but you're right. For now we're out here on the flank, but we could get drawn into the fight for the city."

"Yeah, wonderful."

The men all looked at each other, no one wanted to say a word. The loss of Red Thomas was still on their minds. They knew that Aachen would be tough. As Bear said, "Krauts will fight hard to hold that place, any bets on Hitler already promising to shoot anyone who quits?"

No one took that bet.

Sherman and M-10 in Aachen, October 1944
(Source)