BRAT and the Kids of Warriors

by Michael Joseph Lyons

  Kevin said, “Not yet. We’re facing one challenge at a time. I expect Jack to come up with something; he got us this far.”

  “Sounds good,” said Sam. “We just need to get across this stupid ravine.”

  But Jayla didn’t budge.

  Kevin tried again. “Mrs. Campbell said we’d never be able to do all the things those Russian kids did. Well, I say piss on that! We are going to prove we’re as tough as those Russian kids. So help me uncoil a lot more cord.”

  Jayla nodded imperceptibly and started pulling cord off the spool. Jack gave Kevin a nod of thanks before scrambling back up the tree to be ready to receive it.

  Jack and Charlie hauled it up and flipped it over the tree, letting it drop back down to Sam and Jayla. The girls grabbed on. With them in position, Kevin pulled out his pocket knife, cut the cord off the spool, and knotted his end to the skid.

  “Okay, pull,” he yelled to Jayla and Sam. As they did, he pushed the skid into a standing position. Sam and Jayla pulled until the rope went taut, and continued to heave, but the skid was so heavy, they couldn’t budge it.

  Kevin let go of the skid and sprinted to where the girls were, pulling on his gloves so he could grab hold of the cord to help them pull.

  Ever so slowly, the skid began to rise. “Don’t try pulling with your arms,” Kevin coached them. “Use your body weight as a lever and ease yourselves down into the ravine.”

  The skid rose steadily higher.

  “Wow,” said Jack and Charlie together. It’s one thing to make a plan, quite another to see it work.

  Somehow, the ground crew kept moving. Grunting and straining, with cramping hands, the three made their way toward the bottom of the ravine, without ever letting go. When the skid was halfway to Jack and Charlie, the parachute cord was as taut as a bow string and looked like it might snap at any second.

  “Come on, Airborne, don’t fail me now!” whispered Charlie from his perch.

  The cord kept holding. Jayla, Sam, and Kevin were hanging on for dear life, working their way away from the tree. The skid continued to rise.

  Jack’s radar suddenly went off. He sensed movement. About seventy-five yards upstream, Sevens were coming directly toward them. He froze. If we kept hoisting the skid, they’ll see us for sure. Our whole operation will fail, and they’ll know exactly what we’re up to.

  Charlie, just below him, hadn’t seen them yet. Jack tapped him on the shoulder, signaling for him to remain silent, and then pointed to the approaching Sevens.

  Getting the ground crew’s attention was another story. Jack desperately tried to signal them, but they were hunched over in their struggle to pull the cord.

  If I yell out, the Sevens will hear me, and the jig’s up. Jack glanced back. The Sevens were no more than thirty yards away. We’re outta time!

  He drew his KA-BAR knife from its sheath and placed its razor-sharp blade against the parachute cord. With one swift stroke, Jack cut the cord. The skid sliced the air like a guillotine blade. With a loud thud, it stuck straight up in the ravine.

  Sam, Jayla, and Kevin whipped around to stare at Jack. He pointed toward the Sevens. Realizing there was no time to hide, the ground crew hit the dirt and then didn’t move a muscle.

  “I heard something,” yelled Snot-Nose. “Came from over there.”

  Jack and Charlie froze, watching the whole scene unfold. Jayla, Sam, and Kevin were clearly visible, lying face down in the ravine.

  A bunch of the Sevens scanned the woods and then the ravine.

  “What’d it sound like?” asked a blond-haired kid.

  “I dunno, just some big thud,” said Snot-Nose.

  Jack could hardly swallow when they focused directly on the skid. Damn. They see it!

  “Maybe it was just a falling branch,” said B-Ball, sounding impatient.

  Jack watched as Snot-Nose’s gaze shifted. For a brief second Jack was relieved, thinking they had somehow missed it. But Snot-Nose’s line of sight halted right where Kevin and the girls were lying motionless. Crap, he sees them.

  “Okay, maybe it was a bird or something.” Snot-Nose was clearly disappointed. “Let’s get outta here.”

  And to Jack and Charlie’s amazement, they moved on, disappearing into the woods.

  Eventually, Charlie whispered, “How was that even possible?”

  “I have no idea,” said Jack very softly. “Let’s get down there and check on the others.”

  Charlie whistled the all clear, and they descended.

  “I heard them talking,” said Kevin. “I can’t believe they didn’t see us.”

  “Me, neither,” said Charlie.

  “Chalk it up to a miracle,” said Jayla, whose mood was changing from relief to giddiness.

  “Maybe a miracle, maybe not,” Kevin said, “I remember my dad once telling me, ‘The eye sees what it expects to see.’ At the time I didn’t really get what he meant. But maybe a perfectly rectangular skid standing straight up in the middle of nowhere is such an unlikely object that their brains didn’t register it.”

  “Did the parachute cord break?” asked Sam. When Jack explained that he’d cut the cord on purpose, she shuddered. “Are you wacked? If one of us had been in the spot where it came down, we’d have been cut in half.”

  “But you weren’t,” said Jack very calmly. “And I made sure before I cut it.”

  “Whoa,” was all she said.

  “So we gonna get this thing done, or what?” asked Kevin mischievously.

  “You gotta be kidding me,” said Sam. “After all that? Are you crazy?”

  “Yup,” Kevin said, “we’re crazy, and we’re gonna get Jayla to that mountain.” He headed for the bottom of the ravine to try to get the skid unstuck.

  Jayla turned to Sam. “You know we aren’t quitting till it’s done. So you might as well help.” And she followed Kevin.

  When the skid was finally hauled all the way up, just above Jack and Charlie, it was four stories above the creek.

  “We gotta get this beast in place,” said Charlie. “They can’t hang on to it much longer.”

  That’s when Jack really went nuts. Grabbing a nearby branch, he swung out into the open air and kicked the bottom of the skid. His kick caused the huge iron plank to swing back and forth over the open gap between the trees.

  “Yank on the rope,” he yelled to his troops below.

  The more they tugged, the more the skid swung. Jack climbed back up into the tree and positioned himself next to Charlie. The bottom of the skid came swinging toward them. Each boy hung on to the tree with one arm, and with the other hand, grabbed the skid coming toward them. They held on with all their might, its weight almost ripping them out of the tree.

  Struggling to keep the skid from getting away, Jack grunted between clinched teeth, “Ground crew, move toward me two steps.”

  With hands strangled by the cord and arms about to break, Sam, Jayla, and Kevin somehow managed it. The bottom of the skid came thumping down, right onto the boys’ tree trunk, and stuck there. And, as good fortune would have it, the top of the skid angled back toward the other tree.

  “Okay, quick! Come toward me three more steps.”

  The three eased forward. The top of the skid came down to where it hung just two feet above the other tree.

  “Two more steps toward me.”

  The next thing any of them knew, that great, iron plank had positioned itself between the two trees.

  “Okay, let go!”

  The three on the ground collapsed. The skid stayed in place. Charlie and Jack beamed down at them.

  While Sam, Jayla, and Kevin lay on their backs looking up at the crossing, they saw Jack do his famous Black Squirrel leap for the last time. He came crashing down onto the far tree.

  Sam said, “You’re nuts, Jack McMasters.”

  Char
lie got a saw out of the tool bag and cut off a large limb to create a small stump. He and Jack jockeyed the skid onto it. The stump held the skid flat and steady against the massive tree trunk.

  Jack made the maiden walk over Black Squirrel Crossing. The skid never budged as he came across. Smiling, the boys pulled the large screws out of the bag and secured the bridge permanently to the trees.

  Charlie surprised Jack by pulling a thick rope out of his tool bag. He climbed up ten feet to a limb that hung out over the open air. He tied the big rope to it so that it hung down onto the bridge. “Now kids can hang on to the rope when crossing the bridge,” said Charlie.

  “Clever,” said Jack.

  Using the rope, they walked over Black Squirrel Crossing and climbed down the other tree to the far bank of the ravine.

  Jack yelled to the other three, “Okay, your turn. Give it a go.”

  Sam went first, Jayla close behind, with Kevin bringing up the rear. Halfway up the tree, Sam looked down and started to lose it, but Jack and Charlie kept telling her not to look down. It took a bit, but she finally made it, as did the others.

  Five kids found themselves on the far bank of the great ravine. All with dry shoes. All smiling. All the proud builders of Black Squirrel Crossing.

  Mission accomplished.

  30

  German/American Friendship Week

  German/American Friendship Week had been the main topic of conversation at the McMasterses’ dinner table for at least two weeks. The commanding general was opening the base for a week to Germans who wanted to visit, in order to promote friendship between the American military and the local community. The whole base was busy preparing, and all the dads had been assigned some responsibility for the event.

  One day, word got out that a bunch of GIs were putting up a giant, white tent next to the runway. Every brat in the neighborhood gathered along the cliff to get a bird’s-eye view. They watched as an impressive display of American military power was assembled down on the Flugplatz. First came the tanks, tank-recovery vehicles, and self-propelled howitzers—big cannons mounted on tracked vehicles. Then they brought in the wheeled vehicles: tank transporters, jeeps, three-quarter tons that looked like heavy-duty pickup trucks, and the world-famous deuce-and-a-halfs, those big Army trucks with two benches running along each side that soldiers sit on. The backs of those trucks were covered with large, OD-green canvas tops. The one thing all the vehicles had in common? OD green.

  Jack and crew had grown up around all this Army equipment and firepower. But they knew the German kids hadn’t and would probably be crawling all over it.

  Mrs. McMasters lined up her children up for inspection before they left for the opening day of German/American Friendship Week. Jack was sent back to clean under his fingernails, and Rabbit had to change her dress. Her first one had gotten dirty even before leaving the apartment. Only Rabbit could have achieved that. Queenie, of course, was perfect.

  Once they passed inspection, Mrs. McMasters looked each of them in the eye, and with a tone that clearly communicated “Cross me and you’re dead,” she read them the riot act.

  “Remember, make me proud of you. Look sharp, act sharp, be sharp. You all know exactly what I expect from you—don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they said.

  “And, there is one thing I want you to remember in particular. You are not just a bunch of kids. You represent the United States of America. You are the children of a distinguished United States Army officer. You will act like it! Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The ceremony opened with a huge parade, including the 4th Armored Division Marching Band. It looked like every American on the base had turned out for the event. But what surprised Jack was that over fifteen thousand German men, women, and children showed up. Among them were local dignitaries, politicians like the mayor of Göppingen, as well as the press. The whole thing was being broadcast on German radio and television—even on Armed Forces Radio-Stuttgart. That was the radio station Queenie, all her girlfriends, and Ingrid listened to for the latest rock-and-roll songs.

  Once the parade ended, people made their way to the white tent to stake a claim to a table. That became the McMasterses’ base camp. Once it was established, the kids were free to go off with their friends. Jack and Sam quickly found each other and went about rounding up the others. When they were all together, they headed off to check out the display of American military power. As they’d figured, there were tons of German kids crawling all over the vehicles.

  As they stood watching, Charlie leaned over to Jack and nodded at a group of German men standing nearby. “What do ya bet some of them were Nazis during the war?”

  Jack whispered back, “I think that’s a pretty good bet. And I’m sure a few of them were gung-ho Nazis. But I’m also pretty sure most of them weren’t. A lot of them didn’t have much choice. Ingrid told us that if you didn’t support the Nazis, you could get fired from your job, and all kinds of other bad stuff.”

  “Still, it’s kinda strange,” said Kevin. “A few years ago those same guys were probably shooting at our dads.”

  “And, of course, our dads were shooting back at them,” said Sam.

  Jack looked at all the German kids. “Must be kinda scary or creepy for those kids, knowing we came into their country with our guns blazing—and we’re still here with all this firepower.”

  Jayla nodded solemnly. “Yeah, and it must be hard for them, knowing their dads were Nazis and that they lost the war.”

  Kevin’s brows furrowed. “Gotta be kinda strange.”

  Looking over at the group of German men, Jayla asked, “Do you think one of them could be The Watcher?”

  Now that’s something actually worth worrying about, Jack thought. And for the first time, he wondered if Jayla might worry about it just as much as he did. “Probably only one in a thousand Germans is a spy, but I sure wish there was an easier way to identify which ones are.”

  “Enough, you guys,” said Charlie. “Any horrible, no good, slippery, sneaky spies are just gonna have to wait until after lunch, ’cause I am positively starving to death.”

  “You poor thing,” Jayla said with exaggerated sympathy. “You’re starting to sound like Jack, starving child of America.”

  The sight of the endless tables of food in the tent made Jack almost giddy. But as he headed for the chow line, his brat-radar went off. Cautiously, he glanced over at the McMasters table. Sure enough, his dad was giving him “the eye.” Lt. Col. McMasters motioned for Jack to come over and bring the others with him.

  “Hold up, guys. My dad wants to talk to us,” he said, sounding miserable.

  “Remember your ABC’s, Jack,” whispered Jayla. “Always Be Cool.”

  Sam directed a smile toward Lt. Col. McMasters. “Clever girl, Jayla. Always the clever girl.”

  Jack noted a bunch of strangers at their table, some obviously German. Lt. Col. McMasters introduced everyone. One was Herr Ehrlichmann, the Bürgermeister of Göppingen. Jack knew that meant the guy was the mayor. That made him important. Herr Ehrlichmann stood to greet them. Only then did the brats realize just how large the red-faced man was. Jack’s hand was swallowed in his crushing grip.

  Lt. Col. McMasters said, “Jack, this is Hans, the Bürgermeister’s son, and his friend, Günther. They’re about your age. Why don’t you have lunch with them and show them around this afternoon?”

  The colonel’s words might not have sounded like a direct order to the Germans, but to Jack and his friends, they weren’t a suggestion, and certainly not a request. Their marching orders were clear.

  Because Jack’s German was better than that of his friends, and not wanting to give his father any more time to dream up restrictions on what they could and couldn’t do, he quickly said to the two boys, “Willst du mitkommen und mit uns essen?”

 
; The two German boys jumped up from the table. It was clear they were as anxious to get away from the adults as Jack and crew.

  Jack nodded at the mayor and said in German, “It was very nice to meet you.”

  The kids darted for the food. The first part of the chow line was all salad stuff. Hans and Günther, obviously trying to be polite, started to take some, but Charlie immediately sorted them out.

  “You don’t want that, guys,” he said, using a bunch of hand signals and gagging sounds to communicate. “You’ll die eating that rabbit food. Come down to this end where we can get cheeseburgers and fries. That’s the good stuff.”

  Charlie put in a massive order and then led them over to a table that contained all the extras: catsup, mustard, pickles, onions, tomatoes, lettuce, etc. Everyone tried to teach Hans and Günther the fine art of making a cheeseburger. And, of course, there was a big debate about what to add or not add. For example, Kevin was a catsup-only kinda guy. Jack was an everything guy. The others were somewhere in between. It became a bit like a Three Stooges routine.

  When they finally sat down at a table, Hans and Günther picked up their forks and knives.

  “Whoa! Time out, guys,” yelled Charlie. “Lose the silverware.”

  “Yeah, do it like this,” said Kevin, picking his burger up with two hands and taking a giant chomp out of it.

  Hans and Günther leaned back, a pained look on their faces. Jack could tell they thought this savage, caveman style of eating was a joke. They thought they were being messed with. But when they saw Sam and Jayla do it, too, they reached for their burgers. After two bites, their faces expressed true rapture. There were two new believers in that most American of inventions, the cheeseburger—and in the only way to eat it. Adding fries, a milkshake, and no parents, those two kids were pretty close to heaven.

  Everyone began talking in a mishmash of German, English, and sign language. But one way or another, they communicated. Hans lived in downtown Göppingen because his father was the Bürgermeister. Günther’s father was a farmer, and their farm was actually pretty close to the base. The two boys were school friends.