He was ferociously male. He was arrogant, strong, abrasive and chauvinistic, but most would agree Tex was a great soldier. Joe didn’t always appreciate the arrogance and chauvinism that seemed to ooze from every pore of Tex, especially after the liberation of Paris and the “bragging” rights Tex had “earned” after he’d bagged some French “poonanie,”as he put it. Joe and the rest of the men had been incessantly reminded of “how good French poon was,” on the hour, it seemed. Irrespective of his annoying arrogance and chauvinism, Tex was a great soldier, and his confidence during insurmountable odds gave not only Joe, but the other men who had been fighting in their squad, the confidence to push on, and confidence in war is sometimes the most important thing.
Tex was panting heavily. A German squad had been spotted moving a tank and heavy artillery towards the church they had retreated to. They had been tasked to neutralize the squad and secure the town. They had managed to infiltrate the township early in the morning, unbeknownst to the German troops, and were flanking the city, ready to pounce at Joe’s orders.
Tex knelt down by Joe. About 200 meters away at 3 o’clock were three Germans in a bunker with a 50 caliber behind the church wall. Joe had sent his sniper to the upstairs of the building to their left to take aim, and on his mark take out the 50 caliber. The town had been abandoned when the citizens heard the allies were within a few kilometers. Joe had 13 men with him, who had spread out around the town and had surrounded the Germans; they did not have heavy weaponry or a tank, so would need to have surprise. Joe could attest for eight German soldiers and had strategically positioned his men to attack once they saw the 50 caliber was neutralized. Joe gave the signal.
BANG BANG BANG! Three shots rang out, fatally hitting the three targets by the 50 caliber, one in the face, blowing the back part of his head all over the soldier behind him, stunning him long enough for the sniper to get him in his sights and put one through his chest.
All of a sudden, the reverberating sound of a canon 100 meters to the left of the neutralized 50 caliber rang out, the sound wave knocking loose dirt off the remaining rubble The shell struck the building where the sniper was. An explosion of splintered wood, brick, and human flesh projectiles rained in a 20-meter circle around the tower, causing Tex and Joe to duck for cover. There was no possibility the sniper had survived, as half the building collapsed in on the alley close to where Joe and Tex were.
The tank had been in the stable left of the church. They had spotted the Americans and were waiting to ambush Joe’s platoon as well but were having trouble loading the tank when the sniper neutralized their 50 caliber. Ten German soldiers emerged behind the tank flanking the small square. Two German soldiers reached the 50 and pushed the dead soldiers off the weapon, the soldier with half his head blown off still gripping the handle. Joe and Tex saw the soldiers attempting to engage the 50 caliber and returned fire, but upon their reload, the Germans had reached the gun, upon which a barrage of bullets and noise rang out, demolishing the rest of the building, pinning Joe and Tex down. Bullets and brick fell around them. The 50 caliber was shredding the protection they had established behind the brick wall. They ducked their heads and had retreated behind the building, ducking behind a small brick wall. They were outnumbered and too spread out.
Joe motioned with his hand to Jenkins and Henderson to flank left behind the building. They ducked and started to move, following Joe’s direction, and then another resounding boom shook the ground. A shell struck the building where Jenkins and Henderson were flanking, knocking them to the ground, in the sights of the 50 caliber. Before they could get up, their bodies were peppered with 50-caliber machine gun shells, shedding their bodies into a thousand pieces, as though they were tissue paper. Joe looked at Tex and for the first time saw genuine fear in his eyes. They were both pinned to the wall, ducking their heads as the relentless bullets demolished the remaining protection of the wall.
The gunfire stopped. A moment of silence, then BOOOM! a giant explosion in the wall as a shell exploded through the building and took out the wall. Joe and Tex were thrown 3 meters from the explosion. Both of them were knocked out cold, but they were alive.
Joe woke up with his hands tied behind his back, being lifted into a truck, with Tex gagged and kicking and cursing next to him. They had been captured by three German soldiers with tired irritated faces, who drove them deeper into Germany, away from the western front and into the unknown.
Chapter 5.
October 1st, 1995
Dr. Fisher was a spritely man of moderate build. It was obvious that he had been in great physical shape at one point in his youth, probably from rowing or playing football, but the post-children years had seen inactivity and had equated to a slight increase in his pants size. He was not fat but not quite in shape either. His dark black beard was thick and speckled with white hairs, giving away his age. The beard, nicely trimmed, was grown, no doubt, to cover an evident double chin. Henry guessed Dr. Fisher to be in his late 40s. His eyes were dark brown, with dark ingrained crow’s feet stretching across his high cheekbones. He would have been a menacing character if he became aggressive, but something in the look in his eyes showed lines that were visible mostly due to smiling.
Dr. Fisher had advised Henry and Lee to visit his office to discuss his findings of their father. It had been two weeks and Pop Pop had displayed only slight progress. He still could not move his right side and was not talking. The only evidence he was not totally mute was an incident when he was heavily sedated and was yelling in what the staff and family thought sounded like German. He had gone back into unconsciousness for a few days, and when he awoke, he could not or would not speak.
Henry had visited his father every day for the last two weeks, trying to get him to communicate. He was finally starting to eat solid foods and sitting up and moving his right arms and legs, meaning total paralysis of the right-hand side was ruled out. But still, Joe was severely disabled. He could not walk at the moment but could slightly move his leg above the knee when asked by the physiotherapist. His right arm lay dormant by his side and he could maybe move his upper arm from the shoulder with 25% of the movement and point with his finger. Kristen, the physiotherapist, was pushing him to see how much function had been lost, and, since he could not speak, he had started to use a language board. He could easily point with his left hand to words to communicate, and, when asked to attempt with his right hand, he’d struggle, and the arm would jolt back and forth in a titanic movement to find the word on the sheet. He would get discouraged and used his good hand to assist his disabled hand to the correct work much to the dismay of Kristen his therapist.
Kristen noted in the first week that Joe had made remarkable progress. She had a great relationship with him as soon as she was introduced to him. She was cheeky, which Pop Pop liked. He’d smile that same smile he’d shared with all that he loved, but only out of his left side now, though the half-smile was still as endearing as the full smile.
She could be tough with him, though, which made him frustrated. He’d grunt and roll his eyes at her when she’d place an object just outside the reach of his right arm. He’d naturally try and grab it with his left hand, which worked fine. This would quickly elicit a prompt slap on the wrist from Kristen and a cheeky, “Now, Joe, we know your left side works. I need to see what your right can do.”
But within two weeks, she was having him grab and touch objects with a hand, not two weeks earlier that was almost completely immobile.
This is what the meeting with Dr. Fisher was about. He sat Henry and Lee down and said, “Joe is showing considerable recovery from a stroke. This was caused by an arterial embolism that started in his leg and traveled to his brain, causing a blockage of the recurrent artery