Hammerhead (The Sergeant War Novel Book 9) by Len Levinson

Author:Len Levinson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: world war ii, gordon davies, len levinson, hammerhead division, military ebook, sgt cj mahoney, war ebook, war story online
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing

Chapter Nine

“You can’t go in there,” said the orderly sitting beside Colonel Sloan’s tent flap.

Lieutenant Woodward pretended he didn’t hear him, and pushed the flap aside. He entered Colonel Sloan’s field office, and the colonel sat behind his portable desk, talking over his field telephone. Sloan stared at Woodward, whose head was bandaged like a mummy in a museum. Woodward stood at attention in front of Sloan’s desk and waited for him to finish his phone call.

Sloan didn’t know what to make of the apparition in front of him, so he looked the other way and continued to speak with Colonel Simmons at regimental headquarters, telling him that the hole in his line had been closed by the timely arrival of the third battalion, which Colonel Simmons had been holding in reserve for just this contingency. Sloan and Simmons spoke back and forth awhile, and Simmons made it clear to Sloan that he still wanted Comblain that day.

Finally Sloan hung up the phone and looked at Woodward. “Who the hell are you?” Sloan demanded.

“Lieutenant Charles Woodward, Charlie Company, sir. I’ve decided that it was my duty as an officer in your battalion to report a matter of gross insubordination to you personally and immediately.”

Sloan wrinkled his brow and remembered Woodward. He was the obnoxious one who was always getting into squabbles with other officers. “Lieutenant Woodward,” he said, “I don’t have time right now. The battalion has just taken some terrific losses, and I’ve got to get the attack moving again.”

“Sir,” said Woodward, “this matter is most serious, and I think it merits your immediate attention. Insubordination is like a disease, and once it starts spreading, it can incapacitate a military unit.”

Sloan looked at Woodward for a few moments, standing stiff as a ramrod in front of his desk. A battalion commander should make himself available to his junior officers once in a while, so he indicated a folding chair with his hand. “Have a seat and tell me what’s on your mind, but keep it short.”

Woodward sat in the chair. “Sir,” he said, “I’ve been beaten by my platoon sergeant to the point where I’ve had to receive medical treatment from the battalion hospital. I reported the beating to Captain Anderson, but he refused to do anything about it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Did this happen today?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sloan shrugged. “That’s why he probably didn’t do anything about it. This battalion has been heavily engaged since early this morning.”

“He could have placed the sergeant under arrest.”

“I imagine Captain Anderson didn’t want to do that without an investigation. Besides, I imagine he needed every man he could get for the fighting. I’m sure he’ll handle this properly at the appropriate time. By the way, who is the sergeant?”

Woodward waved his hand. “Oh, I’m sure you don’t know him, sir.”

“I might. What’s his name?”

“C.J. Mahoney.”

Sloan knew him. Mahoney was one of the old-timers in the battalion. The picture clarified in Sloan’s mind. Woodward was obnoxious, and Mahoney had a short fuse. Woodward pushed Mahoney too far, and Mahoney popped him.

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