"This is paradise! The military community's services are like a first-class hotel, and there's a movie theater—it's wonderful!" White flopped onto his bed in the barracks. "And this comfortable bed and barracks... is this a gift from Colonel Sink? It really feels like a dream!"
"I'll bet this is filled with down feathers! I've never had a pillow so soft!" Carber patted his pillow, smiling triumphantly.
"Here you go!" Tipper threw his pillow at Carber's head, hitting him squarely and causing everyone to burst into laughter. Then Moore threw his pillow at him as well.
"Alright, alright, let's see how I handle you guys!" Carber laughed, grabbing his pillow and jumping barefoot onto Moore's bed, hitting him on the head. A pillow fight immediately erupted in the barracks.
"This is our new beginning, guys. We've crossed another hurdle," Parks said with a smile, watching them mess around. As a First Sergeant, he had the right to tell them to stop, but he didn't. This kind of happiness was simple, and the men needed this optimistic spirit to cope with the increasingly complex training.
As a result, most of Easy Company was exhausted that night. The barracks gradually fell silent late at night, and the camp was once again engulfed in the darkness.
"Luz!" Parks lowered his voice and gestured. "You and Tipper, attack from the right. Follow my command. Once you've captured their first line of defense, immediately move to the rear and make a feint!"
Luz nodded and crouched down, heading to the right with Tipper.
"Christenson, Carber, you two will draw their fire from the left. Watch for my signal. Find cover and use the machine gun to suppress their firepower. Once you've captured the first line of defense, come back and suppress the firepower of their second line from the front." Parks gestured to the two men. Christenson and Carber quietly moved to the left.
Parks then quickly turned to White, Moore, and the others. "You'll follow me and act on my hand signals!"
In front of Parks were two buildings. The first was a single-story house, just an empty shell with a few walls left. There was no cover, not even doors or windows, and behind them, faint shadows flickered.
Parks raised his hand to signal Luz on the left and Christenson on the right. Christenson's machine gun immediately opened fire. The sound of gunfire erupted, and the men in the building desperately returned fire at Christenson.
"Go!" Parks saw that Luz and the others had already gone around to the right and were drawing the attention of the men on that side of the building. He gave the signal and led the rest of his group in a charge toward the building.
The men in the building were clearly in a bit of chaos. Suppressed by machine gun fire and constantly harassed by Luz, they neglected their frontal defense. With Parks' rapid advance, by the time they came to their senses, Parks was already near the main entrance. He threw a smoke grenade inside.
After clearing the first room, Parks signaled to both sides. Luz turned toward the rear, continuing his feint to draw fire, while Christenson moved his machine gun closer, providing continuous suppressive fire to pin down the enemy's second line of defense.
"Don't move!" Parks rushed into the second room, raising his gun. "You're captured, fellas!"
At that moment, White, Moore, and the others arrived.
"White, you stay here. Moore, you take the rest of the men, link up with Luz, and storm them from the rear! They're focused on our frontal attack right now!" Parks decisively waved to Luz's group, changing their feint into an actual assault.
"This one's a no-brainer!" Lieutenant Winters, observing from a distance, lowered his binoculars and said to Nixon, who was also watching. "Parks and his team have this won."
"You're right," Nixon nodded. "He's a true tactician."
This was a routine training exercise to test Easy Company's ability to assault fortified positions. It was clear that the squad led by Parks was demonstrating a high level of skill and tactical proficiency during the drill.
"He's running circles around the opposition," Nixon said with a laugh. "I don't know what other surprises he has in store for us. I'm really curious about him now. It's a shame he didn't go to military school. He'd make an outstanding leader."
"They're coming back. Let's go see them," Winters replied, not directly answering Nixon's question. He walked toward Parks and his squad, who were escorting their "captives."
"I have to hand it to you, Parks! You're something else," White said, laughing.
"Hey, hey, Carber, you don't have to treat us like real prisoners!" Guarnere had the misfortune of being on the opposing side, and he was not happy with Carber's cocky attitude.
"Oh, Mr. Clap, who are you talking to? Did you forget you were killed in action just now?" Carber didn't mind and continued to tease him.
"Damn it!" Guarnere had no choice but to complain to himself. Then he turned to Parks. "You're a real conniver, a schemer! You totally outsmarted us!"
Parks laughed. "Don't complain. You should be happy you're not a German kraut! This isn't scheming; it's an art, you know—the art of war. Maybe you should take a lesson."
"Good thing I'm on your side!" Guarnere rolled his eyes.
Just then, they saw Winters and Nixon approaching. They all stopped and saluted.
"At ease!" Winters smiled and nodded. "You did an excellent job! Dismissed!"
Everyone cheered and dispersed. As Parks was about to leave, he heard Winters call out, "Parks, can you wait a minute?"
Parks stopped, turned, and faced Winters. "Sir, is there something you need?"
"Your tactics were very well executed. You successfully deceived the enemy," Winters said.
"Thank you, sir," Parks replied. He knew Winters' purpose wasn't just to praise him, so he waited patiently for the lieutenant to continue.
"I hope that in the future, you'll use your intelligence to help the men get through difficult situations. And never make a meaningless sacrifice. Do you understand?" Winters didn't expect Parks to fully grasp his meaning, but he felt compelled to say it.
Parks, however, understood Winters perfectly. Winters was worried that if Sobel gave a foolish order on the battlefield in the future, Parks would do his best to ensure their brothers didn't suffer heavy losses. But Parks knew Winters' concerns were unnecessary because he knew the eventual outcome: Winters would win his conflict with Sobel, and Sobel would be transferred.
"I understand, Lieutenant," Parks said, giving a solemn salute. This was another reason he admired Winters.
"Alright, that's all. Dismissed!" Winters nodded.
Parks turned to leave, but after only a few steps, Winters called out to him again.
"Sir?" Parks waited for Winters' order.
"Did that tactical approach just come to you in a flash?" Winters asked.
Parks nodded. "Yes, sir. As a leader, I have to make my own judgments based on the situation and create an effective plan. I won't let the men take unnecessary risks."
"Hmm, that's absolutely correct," Winters smiled. "The way you had Luz's team switch from a feint to a full assault was brilliant and very instructive. You did an outstanding job!"
Parks smiled. "I once read a military treatise that emphasized 'feigning reality and showing strength where you are weak.' Reality and deception are not fixed states; they're meant to be interchanged. If you use strength against a weak point, the enemy will be easily defeated."
Winters' eyes lit up. He nodded repeatedly. "That's a brilliant theory—a genius idea! Can you tell me what military treatise that was?"
Parks smiled. "It's called The Art of War, written by a very famous ancient Chinese military strategist named Sun Tzu."
"I'll have to find that to read!" Winters said.
"That might be difficult, sir," Parks hesitated. "I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. This book is not common in America right now. You might be able to find it in Europe, but you'd need luck." Parks was telling the truth. Although Western countries began studying Sun Tzu's work earlier, its popularity was delayed in America until after World War II. Before that, it was difficult to find a copy.
Winters was clearly disappointed, but he remembered the name of the book. On the battlefield in Europe, he made a point of looking for it and eventually found an early translated copy. He treasured it and kept it as one of his primary reference books.
Easy Company soldiers had now begun assault training. They were using blank rounds and smoke grenades to repeatedly practice different scenarios they might face in combat.
Although this training was more complex, the men of Easy Company were in high spirits and still had time to go to Columbus to have some fun.
On December 26, 1942, all soldiers of the 506th Regiment completed their final jump.
"I can't believe I'm going to be a paratrooper today," Joe Liebgott said, gently caressing the silver wing badge he had put on. "I think this must be one of the most important moments of my life!"
Many people were as excited as he was.
Even Parks, who had seen many grand occasions, felt a surge of emotion; it was indeed a joyous and exciting thing to receive the badge with so many brothers.
"You are now members of our regiment," Sink announced from a high platform. "This is one of the finest regiments in the U.S. Army, and certainly one of the best in the world. You must remember our battle cry and motto 'Currahee,' which means 'Stands Alone.' We stand alone together."
Sink's words ignited a passionate fervor among the officers and soldiers of the 506th Regiment.
Because this was a sacred moment, signifying that they were now qualified soldiers, and it would become an important moment for almost everyone.
Moreover, Colonel Sink announced an even more exhilarating piece of news at the end: "Tonight, the community in the barracks will be open to all servicemen.
At that time, you can raise your glasses and drink to your paratrooper badges."
"Starting tomorrow, I will also give you ten days of leave.
You can go home and visit, tell your relatives and friends, and of course, your wives or girlfriends, that you are a U.S. Army paratrooper."
Sink smiled, then changed his tone: "There are some things I hope you can do—not just during your leave, but to make them a belief that guides your life.
You must walk with your heads held high and your chests out.
You must have the bearing of a soldier.
You must always remember that you are an airborne soldier, not an infantryman, not a marine, but an airborne soldier.
Look at your shiny boots and your handsome trousers tucked into them.
Let everyone who sees you know the style of an airborne soldier."
At this moment, everyone cheered.
This was undoubtedly excellent news.
Ten days of leave made them overjoyed.
When the order to "dismiss" came, everyone couldn't help but embrace.
"I think I finally made it through; all of this feels like a dream!" White muttered to Parks while packing his luggage in the barracks.
"I once thought I was going to die from Captain Sobel's torment.
But I made it through.
Look at my boots, look at my silver wing badge."
"You deserve it, White; you've always been excellent!" Parks smiled, watching him pack, but he himself showed no intention of packing his own luggage.
At this moment, White straightened up, then looked at Parks and said earnestly, "I know, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been able to do any of this.
Perhaps I would have been kicked out of Easy Company by Captain Sobel long ago.
Thank you, Parks!"
Parks shook his head and smiled: "Alright, White, don't say such silly things.
We are brothers, aren't we?
Brothers in the same company, people who can rely on each other on the battlefield!"
"Yes!" White then stepped forward and hugged Parks tightly.
"Remember, we will always be brothers.
Don't abandon me; of course, I will never abandon you!"
At that moment, the barracks door suddenly opened, and then Guarnere entered.
Seeing the two, he paused, then laughed: "It seems I've come at the wrong time, perhaps I've interrupted your fun?" He smiled ambiguously.
"Oh, Mr. Gonorrhea, don't imagine things with your head full of * * officers," Parks couldn't help but slap his forehead.
"Right, why aren't you packing your luggage?"
"Hehe, Parks, I'm just about to go to the community.
The beer there is free-flowing today." Guarnere whistled at the two.
"Let's go, everyone, let's have some fun together! Today is destined to be a sleepless night."
"Why not?" Parks smiled, nudging White.
"Let's go, White, we can pack these things later.
Tonight, we should celebrate properly, with our brothers."
The community club was noisy tonight.
"One second, two seconds, three seconds, four seconds… ten seconds!" David Landers, Joe Liebgott, and a group of others surrounded Guarnere, loudly counting down in unison.
"Pop!" With a sound, Guarnere had drained his beer glass by the count of "ten," with a silver wing badge clamped in his mouth, and everyone cheered in unison.
"Charge, Mustang!" Guarnere took the badge from his mouth and shouted triumphantly.
"Cheers," Landauer also raised his glass, and immediately a dozen glasses clinked together, splashing golden beer foam.
The brothers of Easy Company wanted nothing else now but to vent their emotions at such a time.
From entering the barracks until now, they had endured Captain Sobel's various torments and trials, and had also descended from the sky with beautiful parachutes.
Thinking about it now, it was all worth it.
John Martin was in such a mood, carefully tucking his trousers into his high paratrooper leather boots.
He had one foot on a chair, appearing meticulous.
At this moment, another leather boot suddenly appeared on the stool.
When Martin looked up, he saw Patrick Christenson, his face flushed from drinking.
He looked at Martin and said proudly, "Think about it, if you were as handsome as me, people might think you're a big shot, Martin!"
Upon hearing this, Martin couldn't help but shake his head and glance at Patrick Christenson: "Are you saying like a squad leader?"
"Just kidding!" Patrick Christenson shrugged.
"I can finally tuck my trousers into my boots without listening to Captain Sobel's roaring.
Isn't that something to be grateful for?"
Martin couldn't help but smile and wink at him, then extended his hand, and the two shook hands.
"Congratulations, Martin!" Patrick Christenson sincerely offered his congratulations.
"Congratulations on your promotion to Sergeant!"
As they were talking, they suddenly heard a voice loudly shout, "Atten—tion!"
All the soldiers of the 506th Regiment immediately put down their beers, some instantly sprang from their seats, standing ramrod straight.
Colonel Sink, Lieutenant Colonel Strayer, and others walked in, then directly ascended the main stage in the community area.
"Paratroopers, at ease!" Sink said with a smile, "Good evening, brothers of Easy Company!"
"Good evening, sir!" All the paratroopers shouted in unison.
"The airborne unit is a brand new concept in the United States, but the 506th Regiment is absolutely capable of transforming this new concept into victory," Sink said with a smiling nod to the brothers.
"Yes, sir!" All the brothers of Easy Company said loudly.
"I want you to know how proud I am of you; this banquet is what you deserve," Sink continued.
At this moment, Sergeant Grant brought over a glass of beer and handed it to Colonel Sink.
"Now I want you to enjoy yourselves to the fullest and remember our motto." Colonel Sink raised his glass.
"Stands Alone!" Everyone roared from the bottom of their hearts, then raised their glasses and bottles high.
This was a thoroughly enjoyable banquet for the brothers of Easy Company; almost everyone was drunk.
They staggered back to the barracks in small groups, supporting each other.
Inside the barracks, there was another lively commotion, and some even continued the evening's banquet, spilling beer everywhere.
Early the next morning, Parks woke up very early.
He put on his training uniform, preparing to leave the camp for exercise.
This was his habit, even during his leave.
He knew that only by doing so could he keep his body in optimal condition at all times.
"Bang!" White suddenly sprang from his bed.
His hair was messy, and he still reeked of alcohol.
He groggily fumbled for his clothes, muttering, "Damn it, I'm screwed today, I must be late!"
"Shut up, White!" At this moment, Heffron, who was lying on the bed, stretched out his voice lazily, "Are you out of your mind?
From today onwards, for the next ten days, there will be no damn bugle calls, no damn training, and no Captain Sobel.
We're on leave!"
"Ah—" White was in the middle of putting on his trousers when he heard this, and immediately froze.
Then he quickly remembered that his ten-day leave started today.
His expression instantly relaxed, and he couldn't help but burst into laughter, then fell backward, landing heavily on the bed.
"Parks, where are you going?" Then White noticed Parks in his training uniform.
"Oh, God, don't tell me you're addicted; no wonder you're a perverted monster."
Parks smiled and said, "Are you going home?"
It's not early now.
I do hope you can return here on time; don't stay too long in the comfort of home.
Don't forget that Captain Sobel won't let things go easily.
And Colonel Sink won't let off those who overstay their leave; don't get kicked out right after becoming a paratrooper."
"Alright, alright! I really need to go home." White got up from the bed again and started packing his things.
By the time Parks returned from his training, White had already finished packing.
His hair was neatly combed and oiled, he wore a clean military uniform with a gleaming silver wing badge, his leather boots were polished, and his trouser legs were tucked in, making him look handsome and valiant.
At this moment, others also woke up and were packing their belongings.
"Oh, what a handsome young man!" Parks laughed.
White smiled confidently, looking at Parks, and asked curiously, "Parks, aren't you going home?
Or do you have something else to do?"
Parks nodded: "I'm not going home for now." He wanted to stay here and use these days to complete the rifle design he had promised earlier.