The next day, the unit sprang into action. An M8 Greyhound armored reconnaissance vehicle led the way, clearing the path ahead, while another vehicle followed at the rear, ensuring the safety of the 3rd Company.. Additionally, Colonel Herbert had sent a supporting company led by Captain Michael Turner. His unit would guard our flanks and maintain a safe distance, heading towards the northern forests of Clécy.
But as we marched, trouble struck sooner than expected.
The area, soaked by days of heavy rain, had turned a three-kilometer stretch of road into a quagmire. Trucks loaded with supplies and armored vehicles were frequently getting stuck in the mud.
The soldiers bent over, their hands covered in dirt, struggling to push the vehicles. Each time they put in more effort, the heavy mud seemed to pull them deeper.
Although the sky had cleared and the sun was shining down, the mood of the men grew increasingly heavier. The muddy road felt like an invisible chain, slowing our pace and dampening the morale of the troops.
"Move it! Harder! Didn't you eat breakfast?" the commander's voice barked, but the soldiers merely remained silent, their steps dragging.
The new recruits stared at their mud-caked boots, exhaustion written all over their faces. Despite the fresh air, their spirits sank even further.
The veterans remained silent, enduring the endless ordeal.
As time passed, the soldiers' movements grew slower, their morale sinking like the mud beneath their feet.
I watched all of this, frowning. This was bad—really bad.
After thinking for a moment, I called out to the troops, "Listen up, guys! The mud beneath our feet is the Germans' last stand! Once we march through this mess and into Berlin, I'll buy you all a beer and you can scrub your boots in it!" I paused and added, "Come on, give it everything you've got! I promise: today's lunch will have more potatoes than dirt—and that's a guarantee! I've already told the cooks to add a little extra for the 'most expensive foot soak' celebration!"
"Hahahaha!" The soldiers erupted in laughter, their earlier despondency vanishing in an instant.
"Captain, you really know how to boost the morale!" Joanner said quietly, trying to flatter me.
"Cut the crap! If I didn't have tricks up my sleeve, how could I lead this bunch of fools?" It's a bit sharper." I shot back, then added, "By the way, when you lead the recon team into the danger zone later, you'd better be careful. I don't want to lose a second lieutenant."
"Sir, you know I really hate it when you say things like that!" Joanner said, his face dropping.
"Alright, alright! My bad! What I meant was, don't let the Germans pick you off with a single shot!" I spat, trying to make light of it.
"Ha! If you die first, I'm not going anywhere either!" Joanner laughed as he jumped a few paces away, clearly trying to dodge my potential revenge.
"That little bastard, I need to figure out how to handle him. Otherwise, he'll just keep getting out of hand!" I thought to myself, plotting some way to deal with Joanner.
"Sir, message from Sergeant Job ahead. He reports sighting an unidentified number of Germans!" My radio operator interrupted my thoughts.
"Tell Job to keep a close eye on the Germans! Don't lose track of them!"
"Yes, sir!"
Job, having earned a promotion to sergeant after his previous achievements, had led 3rd Company's two snipers ahead. His primary mission was to give these two rookies some real combat experience—hopefully, they'd survive long enough to see the end of the war. But not long after they set out, they spotted German movement, which made me suspicious. Why would the Germans let Job notice them so easily? Could it be a trap?
Damn Germans. Even if it's a trap, they've already figured out that I'll walk right into it. This is my curse. The bastards have read my mind—this feels like a trap within a trap.
"Joanner, goddamn it, get over here!"
"Sir?" Joanner, trying to act brave, approached, still keeping a sideways stance, ready to bolt.
"Enough with the act. Let's talk business," I said, straightening up.
"Well, alright, sir. But don't kick me!" Joanner said, his face a mask of innocence.
"Alright! Job's spotted German movement. I suspect it's a bait and switch."
"Impressive, sir. You cracked the code!" Joanner said, pretending to be in awe.
"I swear, I'll replace you if you keep this up!" I glared at him.
"Oh god, sir, you'd never find anyone like me in the whole U.S. Army. I'm the only officer who understands you so well!" Joanner feigned a pitiful look, causing the radio operator, Brooks, to stifle a laugh.
"What the hell are you laughing at?" Joanner snapped at Brooks.
"You, as my second lieutenant, what's your take on this?" I asked, trying to refocus the conversation.
"I think, since the Germans let Job spot them so easily, something's off. They probably want to lure us into the forest, separate us, and pick us off one by one. I recommend we don't spread out under any circumstances! Also, we should establish defensive positions on all high ground or key points. That way, if something goes wrong, we can hold out until reinforcements arrive."
"That would slow us down," I said, rubbing my chin in thought.
"Better that than have the whole unit wiped out in the woods," Joanner responded, standing firm, waiting for my decision.
"Alright, we'll play their game. If they want to pick us off in the forest, we'll lure them into a trap of our own," I said, grinning.
"How do we lure them?"
"You'll see for yourself soon enough," I said, feigning mystery.
"Well, sir, just be careful," Joanner warned.
"I know. Now, it's time for you to show me what you've got."
Joanner grinned. "Got it!"
Joanner quickly took his reconnaissance team forward. Once his team spread out, they immediately mirrored the Germans' tactics, which showed they had studied the German methods well.
When a German squad (about a dozen men) marched across open ground, the squad leader would order them into a "loose formation" if they needed to keep moving while still able to shoot. They would shout the command "loose formation" or, if silence was required, raise their arms in an "X" shape to signal for dispersion.
Once dispersed, the machine gunner and his assistant (possibly with a rifle grenade launcher soldier) would be at the center, with the rest of the squad arrayed to either side. The squad continued moving forward, but with the "center firepower + flanking dispersion" tactic.
When moving without orders, soldiers kept about 5 steps between each other. This spacing, developed by the Germans, helped maintain firepower while minimizing the risk of getting hit by friendly fire.
Joanner's team adopted the same method, positioning the machine gun as the focal point of the squad. When Joanner wanted to take up firing positions, he would shout, "Firing positions!" or, when silence was needed, use hand signals to convey the order: raise the right arm horizontally and then place the fist vertically over the chest.
Once the command was given, everyone would scatter: the machine gunner would find the best spot to set up, while the rest spread out on either side, each maintaining about 5 steps of distance and preparing to fire.
Without further instructions, they would keep the same spacing to keep in sight of each other while ensuring mutual support and reducing the chance of a single shot taking out multiple men.
The Germans' 'machine gun-centric, loose formation' tactic has remained a cornerstone of modern infantry tactics, adopted by many armies to this day. The Germans truly pioneered modern mobile firepower tactics.
Joanner's squad advanced, and my remaining men snapped to battle readiness.. However, the new recruits, who made up over 80% of the unit, still seemed too relaxed. This did not go unnoticed by the older veterans in the 3rd Company.
"Keep it tight! You better stay sharp, or those damn German bullets will have your FNG asses for dinner!" an older soldier, now a sergeant, barked.
"Sergeant, why are you acting like we're in a rush? It's not like the world's ending," a new recruit retorted.
"Goddamn it, you better obey! Do what I say or you'll regret it when the Germans get you!" The sergeant kicked the recruit, who immediately shut up, scared out of his wits.
This was common in a unit with so many new recruits. Such minor confrontations were no big deal in peacetime, but when combat loomed, this attitude would earn harsh reprimands from the officers. It was about the recruits' ability to follow orders in critical moments. Like with my second lieutenants, we joked around when things were calm, but when it counted, they'd follow my orders without question, no matter if they were right or wrong.
New recruits had their issues, but once they tasted real combat, those problems vanished faster than they could blink. Actually, Everyone's gone through the rookie phase. The only difference is, some are still alive—and some are already dead.