"When we almost had 'em, but the issue still was in doubt,
Who suggested the retreat, that turned it into a rout?..."

The Reds lay out there somewhere ... dug into the brush-covered slope to our front. It was a hot summer afternoon in Central Georgia, and Depp was in his element. "Naow," his nasal twang resonated over our supine and sweating forms where we lay sprawled beside the red-dirt road. "Naow," whut is needed here is fer us to get Scouts out up that there hill. I want they should work forward and set up Forward Observation Posts is whut I want. There's Reds up there somewhere and before the Captain goes committing the entire company to this foolishness, it is necessary we know just where they are and what's going on up there."

And so it was hastily decided that one man from each Squad was to "take point" here and work his way up the slope until he had found a nice little spot where he could tuck in and "observe" his surroundings. Anything suspicious was to be jotted down in a little notepad provided for the occasion. Then there was to be set up back down here at "base" a hot and cold running series of "runners" to and from these out-of-sight FOP's. They would be the means whereby the little notes on paper got returned down to the "brass" here at the base of the hill and presumably affected all future orders for movement...

Guess who got "picked" from First Squad? Yep! You're right the first time! So I took off running low like a big gooney bird and was soon lost in the bush. I snaked my way along upward like we had been taught to do - inserting myself into big bushes and peering out by parting the branches lightly rather than just peering around the outside edges of the bush, etc. Soon I spotted a shady little nook under some trees and made my way over to it and lay down. I took out the binoculars that went with FOP duty, and had a look around. Nary a thing. Nothing suspicious anyway. Couple old crows were jawboning away in a nearby tree top is all. The glade shimmered in the harsh sun and mosquitoes hummed in the shade.

No Reds. Not even any Rednecks...

I lay there a long time. There was total silence. No sound of firing came my way. No voices calling or troops moving through the brush. Nothing. I was tempted once or twice to doze, but managed to keep awake. A heck of a long time passed and then I heard a rustle somewhere behind me. I turned and it was ...Menkiwitz. He crouched and ran forward and then plopped down beside me. Menkiwitz was 'good troops'. He was from Pennsylvania I think, and had worked in the mines most of his younger years. He was in Second Squad. His face was all sweat-smeared and looked dirty - but wasn't. It was all the little tiny coal-dust specks and "coal blackheads" these guys had and they shown wet and shiny in all this heat.

He said, "I''m supposed to take your note back. You got the note? Where's the note?" I said, "What note? There isn't any note. What am I supposed to do up here - write notes to myself? There's nothing around here at all."

Menkiwitz persisted. "Listen," he said. "You got to write a note! Depp said I was not to come back without a note. He said, 'Menkiwitz - Get your Polish ass up that hill and find Powell. Get a note from him. He added, 'Powell likes to read and write. He will have some kind of bullshit for you. Get it, and get back down here on the double-quick!"

He looked sideways at me. "That's what he said, Powell."

We lay there side by side for a bit. Saying nothing. A grasshopper chewed a weed right in front of me - the crows were still calling... Caw! Caw! Caw! Menkiwitz smoked a cigarette. "Beats running up this hill in the Charge, at that!" he allowed to no one in particular. "What 'Charge'?", I asked. "Oh, they were getting ready for a frontal assault about the time me and some other runners took off," said Menkiwitz.

We were both silent a bit, and then I said, "How come if there is a 'Charge', we don't hear shooting and yellling?" "Beats me," he said. "Like if Third Platoon were to come up this hill behind us, wouldn't we hear them - yelling and all? I mean you can't have a 'Charge' can you in total silence?"

"Maybe they went up the other side of the gully - over beyond that ridge", said Menkiwitz. "Gulley? What gulley? I said. I didn't see any gulley. "Well, I came up a bit different way than you took off," said Menkiwitz. "I had to wade a small creek and then this low ridge got in between me and the rest of them. So I turned more to my right and kept uphill. (Pause) And I found you!"

"How long did all this take?", I asked. "Maybe 20 - 30 minutes," he said. "Jeezul, Menkiwitz," I said. "I been up here a long time. You were long time getting to me. We don't hear anything - I haven't heard anything since I left! I think the whole action has gone way off over on our left somewhere is what I think. I think we are maybe clear out on the edge of this manuver - maybe even not even part of it anymore!"

This possibility didn't seem to bother Menkiwitz anywhere near as much as it bothered me. Fact is, he was adapting to FOP and housekeeping duties very well, and was on his second cigarette. He lay in the shade with his helmet as a sort of a pillow.

"Well," I said. "I think something has gone wrong is what I think. I think they maybe all marched off or something. Tell you what, Menkiwitz... I think I will go back down to the base of the hill and see if I can find out what's what. You can stay here or not whatever you wish. But for me, I think we are all off the reservation or something here and something is really snafu!"

Menkiwitz sat up and put on his helmet again. "You're likely right," he said. "Anyhow, we not making any money here..."

And so the two of us began ambling back down through the brushy slope the way we had both generally come up. We had not gone too far when Surprise! Surprise! - we ran onto another FOP - and there were three guys in it - one appeared to be sound asleep. Two were runners: the first one (the sleeper) had not yet gone back down with his "message". The second had been sent to "find" him but no one seemed to know much more than we did about things in general.

This contingent allowed as they too had been thinking of going back down to "find headquarters" and so, rousing the sleeper from his slumbers, they joined us. Rather that is, they veered off and separated out quite a bit to our right and soon disappeared in the brush.

But what had now been "set off" all unknowingly, since no one observer could see the entire thing as it unfolded, was a sort of carefree stroll by a number of troops (us!) going back down the hill. And we happened to pass right through a lightly dug in - and equally uninformed number of main body troops who had been on their way up, but had stalled out some time since while their leaders had melted away somewhere out of sight to review matters on their own - or something. This sight of men strolling easily back down the hill was seen by others - who promptly joined in.

You can see what is coming.

About 20 minutes later all along the base of this hill snaking away through the woods, began to emerge isolated troops, small groups and random mixed-up contingents of troops one after another, where they flopped down in the red-dirt road or just milled around talking and smoking.

That's when the jeep with the Captain and a lieutenant in it came around the bend.

"What in Sam Hill is all this?" roared the Captain, standing up in the jeep. "You people are supposed to be up and over this goddam hill... godamit!" "Where are your platoon leaders?" Then (always)..."What outfit is this?" and so on an so on. "This is a damned rout," he roared. "Who ordered this?"

We the "people" could not rightly say. No one knew. The best that was ever determined after, was that there had been sort of an unconsciousness movement or "something" that had swept over the hillside during a breakdown in communications and many troops - understandably cut off from direction or orders - had sort of generally drifted back down through the woods to get re-oriented.

Menkiwitz and I actually caught a ride back in a 3/4-ton. No one ever asked us anything about the Great Rout which entered thereafter into Camp lore. We just got carried up into it as it were, and we never volunteered anything either. Jubilation T. Cornpone had nothing on us!

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