THIS IS MY STORY, I WAS THERE, I LIVED EVERY MOMENT OF IT.

PRIVATE 1ST CLASS GLENN GOODWIN 101ST AIRBORNE, E COMPANY
(SOMETIMES CALLED “THE BAND OF BROTHERS.”)

St. Lo, France:

MIDNIGHT OR SO, E COMPANY BLINDLY WALKED INTO A CLEVER GERMAN AMBUSH
OF WITHERING RIFLE MACHINE GUN AND MORTAR FIRE KILLING 4 BROTHERS AND WOUNDING MOST OF THE REST.

JOE WAS LEFT OUT THERE IN THE DARK FIELD SCREAMING HORRIBLE SCREAMS, CALLING FOR HIS MOTHER. IT WAS TOO SUICIDAL TO EVEN THINK ABOUT VENTURING OUT INTO THAT HEAVY CROSSFIRE.

MY THOUGHTS WERE JUMBLED. I WANTED TO HELP POOR JOE, BUT I WAS AFRAID. THE GERMANS WERE STILL FIRING INTO THAT BLACKENED FIELD. I DIDN'T WANT TO DIE, BUT I WANTED TO SAVE JOE.

STEELING MY THOUGHTS, HARDLY AWARE OF WHAT I WAS DOING, I BEGAN CRAWLING OUT INTO THAT DEATH-TRAP. ONE THOUGHT STOOD OUT: “NO GREATER LOVE HATH ANY MAN, THAN HE WHO SACRIFICES HIS LIFE FOR HIS FRIEND.”

THE BULLETS STARTED KICKING UP DIRT AND DEBRIS AGAINST MY FACE, BUT I SQUINTED MY EYES SHUT AND CRAWLED ON. THE GROUND WAS ROUGH AND I COULDN'T SEE, BUT I WAS GUIDED BY THE SOUND OF JOE'S HORRIBLE SCREAMING.

INCH BY INCH I CRAWLED. IT WAS A LONG WAY, BUT FINALLY, THE SCREAMING WAS LOUDEST AND I FELT HIS UNIFORM. I CRAWLED UP WHERE I COULD FEEL HE WAS WOUNDED, AND QUICKLY DISCOVERED HE HAD BEEN DISEMBOWELED. HIS INTESTINES WERE LYING IN A HEAP ON HIS ABDOMEN. SO I PUSHED THEM BACK IN THE CAVITY, AND COVERED THEM WITH WHAT WAS LEFT OF HIS UNIFORM.

THEN, THE ORDEAL OF HAULING HIM OUT OF THERE. I PUT ONE LEG ON EITHER SIDE, AND GRASPING HIS COLLARS, I BEGAN RAISING MY KNEES AND PUSHING A FEW INCHES AT A TIME. IT WAS SLOW WORK, BUT WE WERE MOVING IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION. SOON, IT BECAME A ROUTINE. RAISE, AND PUSH.

I WAS GONNA SAY “JOE”, BUT INSTEAD I SAID “LOLLIPOP”. WHERE DID LOLLIPOP COME FROM? I HAD NEVER HEARD HIM CALLED LOLLIPOP. THEN INTO MY HEAD CAME THE ANSWER. HIS MOTHER CALLED HIM LOLLIPOP WHEN HE WAS A CUTE BABY. AS WEIRD AS IT SOUNDS, IT MUST HAVE BEEN A DIVINE MESSAGE IN ANSWER TO A SELFLESS ACT THAT JESUS MEANT.

IT ALSO OCCURRED TO ME THAT I NEEDED A REOCCURRING SAYING THAT WOULD KEEP ME GOING. AND I WAS THINKING I HAD HALF OF IT, THAT “COCK” WOULD MEAN “RAISE THE KNEE,” PUSH IS “EXTENDING THE LEG,” AND THE FATHER IN HEAVEN
TOLD ME JOE WAS THE LOLLIPOP. SO THE LITANY BECAME “COCK, PUSH FOR LOLLIPOP.” SO INCH BY INCH, WE MOVED IN A DIRECTION THAT I HOPED WAS THE RIGHT ONE.

AFTER SEVERAL MINUTES, DISASTER STRUCK. HITTING MY RIGHT KNEE WHILE IT WAS IN THE COCK POSITION, AND BLOWING IT ALL APART. THE FORCE OF THE BLAST WAS SO EXTREME. PART OF MY LEG, KNEE, AND FOOT ENDED UP ON MY FACE. THE PAIN HAD NOT STARTED. IT WAS NUMB, AND SO I PUSHED THE LEG DOWN SO I COULD DRAG IT IF I COULD. NOW WE HAVE JOE, ME, AND THE LEG, AND I HAD TO DRAG BOTH
OF US DOWN TO THE LINE.

THEN THE HORRIBLE PAIN BEGAN WHERE MY LEG USED TO BE, AND I HARDLY HAD THE STRENGTH TO MOVE, SAY NOTHING OF DRAGGING US 100 YARDS OR SO. I COULD NOT SUPPRESS SCREAMING MYSELF.

BUT AMAZINGLY THE LITANY STILL BECAME PROMINENT IN
MY THOUGHTS, AND WAS A FORCE MOVING ME AN INCH OR TWO AT A TIME. THE PAIN WAS EXCRUCIATING, AND JOE WAS SCREAMING, AND I WAS SCREAMING, BUT WE MOVED.

WE MOVED AN INCH AT A TIME AS THE BULLETS WERE THROWING UP DIRT AROUND US. BUT STRANGELY ENOUGH, NONE OF THE BULLETS HIT US. WE WERE SPRAYED WITH DIRT. IT MUST BE BECAUSE THE FATHER TOLD THOSE SHOOTERS TO MISS US.

THE LITANY CAME STRONGLY INTO MY THOUGHTS AND PROMPTED ME TO MOVE. “COCK, PUSH FOR LOLLIPOP” PUT US ON THE WAY FOR ANOTHER SCREAMING INCH OR TWO. IT WAS DARK, AND I COULDN'T SEE ANYTHING. I HOPED I WAS MOVING IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION. INCH BY INCH, DRAGGING JOE AND ME AND MY DEMOLISHED LEG SLOWED US DOWN.

THIS NIGHTMARE WENT ON AND ON, AND I DESPAIRED OF EVER REACHING SAFETY. I WAS JUST PUSHING BY THE LITANY “COCK, PUSH FOR LOLLIPOP” WHEN I FELT STRONG HANDS ON MY COLLAR. THOUGH I COULDN'T SEE IN THE DARKNESS, MEDICS ARRIVED WITH HYPODERMICS DRIPPING WITH MORPHINE. THROUGH MY AGONY, I FELT THE PAIN WAS DIMINISHING. MY THROAT MUSCLE STOPPED VIBRATING (SCREAMING).

I WAS PULLED LOOSE FROM JOE, AND THE RESCUE BEGAN. THE MORPHINE PUT US TO SLEEP, BUT I WAS TOLD LATER THAT THE MEDICS LOADED US ON STRETCHERS AND COVERED OUR WOUNDS WITH SULFA DRUGS, TO PREVENT INFECTION. THE MEDICS
TROTTED US UP TO THE AID STATION WHERE OUR UNIFORMS WERE SEPARATED FROM THE WOUNDS.

IN MY CASE, THEY PUT MY DAMAGED LEG INTO A CANVAS BOOT TO KEEP ALL THE PIECES TOGETHER. THEN WHILE WE WERE IN DEEP MORPHINE SLEEP, WE WERE
LOADED ONTO THE HOOD OF A WAITING JEEP. WE BUMPED OUR WAY TO THE FIELD HOSPITAL, WHERE MORE MATERIAL WAS SEPARATED FROM THE FLESH
AND BONE ON BOTH OF US.

THEN A BATTLEFIELD DRESSING WAS REPLACED OVER OUR WOUNDS. WE WERE NOW READY FOR THE FLIGHT OUT TO THE HOSPITAL SHIP, 5 MILES OUT. IN AN UNUSUAL TACTIC, WE WERE LOADED ONTO THE CENTER OF THE WING OVER THE COCKPIT OF AN L-5 OBSERVATION PLANE.

IT WAS FORTUNATE THAT THE HOSPITAL SHIP WAS AN AIRCRAFT CARRIER. THIS WAS HIGHLY RISKY. IT HAD NEVER BEEN DONE. THE L-5 PILOT HAD NO TRAINING IN LANDING ON AN AIRCRAFT CARRIER. HOWEVER, THE SHIPS' BOS'N TALKED US DOWN.

THEN WE WERE RUSHED INTO THE EMERGENCY ROOMS FOR SEPARATE AND UNIQUE PROCEDURES. WE WERE BOTH HEAVILY SEDATED WITH MORPHINE AND REMAINED IN DEEP SLEEP. IN JOE'S CASE, THERE WAS MUCH CUTTING, STITCHING, SEWING, AND REASSEMBLING HIS STOMACH. THE BATTLEFIELD DRESSING WAS REPLACED WITH MORE ADVANCED HOSPITAL DRESSINGS.

IN MY CASE, WHEN THEY REMOVED THE BOOT, MUCH OF THE FLESH AND BONE STUCK TO IT. THE BOOT WAS CUT LOOSE. THEN AFTER LENGTHY EXAMINATION, THE SURGEON DETERMINED THE LEG MUST BE AMPUTATED JUST BELOW THE HIP. HAVING NO ARGUMENT FROM ME (BECAUSE I WAS ASLEEP), THEY PROCEEDED TO CUT AWAY THE DEBRIS, AND AMPUTATED THE LEG WITH A SURGICAL SAW. THEY PULLED THE FLESH TOGETHER AND STITCHED IT SHUT, COATING IT WITH HEALING LOTION.

WE SLEPT THROUGH THE WHOLE THING, AND WERE KEPT SEDATED THROUGHOUT THE HEALING PROCESS FOR TWO WEEKS. I SHOWED SIGNS OF WAKING, BUT BEFORE THEY ADMINISTERED MORPHINE, THEY DISCUSSED THE NEXT PROCEDURE. THEY WANTED TO GET A STERILE CANVAS BOOT ON MY STUMP AND GET ME USED TO THE FEEL OF IT.

THEY LET ME COME OUT OF DEEP SLEEP, AND I SCREAMED AS THE BOOT RUBBED AGAINST MY RAW STUMP. THEY HAD TO TAKE IT OFF AND HAVE ANOTHER BOOT MADE OF SURGICAL GAUZE WHICH THEY PUT ON. I WAS AWAKE BY THEN, AND ALTHOUGH I DIDN'T SCREAM, THE PAIN WAS HORRIBLE. BUT THEY LEFT THE GAUZE BOOT ON.

I WAS IN PAIN FOR A WEEK - EXCEPT WHEN THEY ADMINISTERED PAIN MEDICINE. BY THEN THEY REMOVED THE GAUZE BOOT AND REPLACED IT WITH A CANVAS ONE. THEY TOOK THE BOOT OFF EVERY DAY, AND PUT ON MORE LOTION UNTIL I COULD STAND IT SOMEWHAT.

IN TWO WEEKS THEY PUT ON MY PERMANENT BOOT OF A HEAVY-DUTY CANVAS. IN A WEEK THEY PUT ME ON MY FEET. AGAIN, THE PAIN WAS EXCRUCIATING, SO THEY LET ME SIT. BUT EVERY TWO HOURS, THEY HAD ME STAND. THE NEXT DAY, THEY HAD ME STAND AN HOUR AT A TIME.

AND SO IT WENT UNTIL THE DAY THEY FITTED A WOODEN LEG TO MY STUMP AND HAD ME STAND ON IT FOR A FEW MINUTES. THIS WAS THE BEGINNING OF RESTORING THAT LEG WITH AN ARTIFICIAL ONE, WHICH THEY HAD ALREADY CONSTRUCTED. SO THE
LEG CAME ONE DAY. THEY PUT IT ON ME, AND I HAD TO WEAR A WAIST BELT: A WIDE BELT WITH ELECTRONICS ON IT WITH PULLEYS AND LEVERS FOR OPERATING THE LEG.

AT FIRST I HAD TO GET USED TO STANDING ON IT, THEN SEVERAL WEEKS OF LEARNING TO WALK ON IT. YEARS LATER, I ACQUIRED A DEGREE IN PROGRAMMING. ONE DAY, AS I WAS COMPLETELY ABSORBED IN MY WORK, THERE CAME A GENTLE KNOCKING AT THE DOOR. I WAS TOO ENGROSSED TO ANSWER, BUT IT OPENED SOFTLY AND THE WORDS CAME DRIFTING TO MY EARS.

“COCK, PUSH FOR LOLLIPOP.” UNMANLY SOBS CHOKED ME, AND I WHIRLED AROUND AND BEHELD MY RESCUED BROTHER. I WAS STUNNED, AND GOOSEBUMPS WENT UP AND DOWN MY SPINE. THOSE WORDS WILL ALWAYS BRING BACK THE WHOLE RESCUE OPERATION, MY SACRIFICE FOR A FELLOW BROTHER.

“COCK, PUSH FOR LOLLIPOP.”

THE END
-Ted G. Short