“If you do, we’re keeping the Browns. I’m not giving up her puddings just because you can’t handle a pun.” John patted him on the shoulder.

“Nah, I’m not giving them up either. I guess I’m stuck with you two.”

“Hey, save your breath,” huffed William. “If Sobel hears us talking, he’ll double the hike.”

“Sobel can—” John started.

“Don’t say it. You’re better than that.” Though Tom conjured several words that could have easily followed that sentence.

They kept walking. Tom felt the sharp pain of a pebble in his boot, but he knew better than to remove it. If he stopped, Sobel would make them all pay by adding miles, and he couldn’t do that to his fellow soldiers.

At last they came to the end, finishing up at Aldbourne, exhausted and feeling chilled as their sweat mingled with the crisp air. Tom hoped they’d be able to spare a Willys Jeep to take them back to Chilton Foliat.

“Easy Company,” Sobel barked. “Now that you have finished the hike, a hike you did in record poor time, I might add, we are going to test your skills on the range. We will split up into two teams. The team with the highest combined accuracy will be able to join the other lazy companies in Swindon for the remainder of the day. The losers will be on latrine duty at Littlecote. I asked them to save that job especially for Easy.”

Groans could be heard throughout the company.

“Any complaints will automatically put you with the losing party.”

Tom swung his rifle around and sighed. There was no use arguing, as much as he wanted to. He looked at First Lieutenant Dick Winters, hoping for a flicker of dissent. All the men agreed that Winters would make a far better leader, and Tom wondered what had been said when Winters had gone up the chain of command to complain on their behalf. But, excellent soldier that he was, he would never publicly disagree with an order.

The three of them were put on the same team along with Malarky, Muck, and several others who were good marksmen, so Tom felt confident that they would earn the night off. He’d not yet been to Swindon, but he’d heard that it had some good dance clubs, and he could use a beer.

“William, what about your hand?” It had not yet healed and, in fact, had swelled into something worrisome. The long hike surely hadn’t helped.

He held it up and shrugged. It was red and puffy, and the strain on William’s face showed that he was in a lot of pain.

“You can’t shoot like that. You really need to see a medic.”

“And let the team down and have Sobel revoke the leave for everyone? Not on your life.”

“It could be your life if you’re not careful.”