23: Footlocker

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Second Platoon had been dubbed the red team for their first field exercise. They each had red armbands tied around their biceps, secured over the top of their ODs and were dressed in full pack, exactly as they would be in actual combat, they'd been told. Posey was sure she would've felt weighed into the ground if she hadn't already had to run Currahee like this, or had to walk twelve miles in the pitch dark every Friday night. Maybe Sobel deserved more credit. He'd trained them well thus far, she thought.

That sentiment was not to last.

The objective of the exercise was simple, find one of the other platoons before they find you and 'shoot' them - that was, point guns and mortars at them so they couldn't argue about having been found. Second Platoon were at a hefty disadvantage in comparison to First and Third, however, in that they were being led by Sobel. The fears of the majority had been correct; Sobel wanted to win and he wanted to impress. Posey wasn't sure whether he would be doing either of those things even if he had chosen the most impressive platoon of the three. She hoped she was wrong.

Mere minutes into the exercise Posey recognised something fatal; Sobel couldn't read maps properly. She wished she hadn't watched him trying to, for now all she could think as she traipsed through the brown landscape of the woods was that the blind was leading the blind. Sobel had absolutely no idea where they were going, she could tell. This was made all the more clear when they came upon a ditch and he gestured to it hastily, ordering, "Easy Company! Take cover in this ditch!"

Posey found herself perched up on a ledge next to Johnny, aiming her M1 into a sea of nothing but trees and shrubbery. Nothing moved aside from Johnny's eyes as he rolled them.

Posey suppressed her grin and kept her eyes facing firmly forwards.

"Petty! Map!" Sobel ordered almost immediately. Posey turned purely out of instinct upon hearing the aggression in his tone only to find him violently beckoning Petty over. "Come on!"

"Ah, Christ!" Petty mumbled under his breath, slinging the strap of his M1 over his shoulder and retrieving the map for Sobel. As he approached he shuffled past Posey and she heard him grumbling a great many curses directed at Sobel under his breath. When he reached the company commanding officer, he all but shoved the map into his hands.

Posey turned back to face the front to keep her eyes on the woods before her, ready to shoot should anything attempt to jump out. In reality, she knew there was no one ahead of them. They could be miles and miles away from where they were supposed to be for all she knew - and for all Sobel knew, too, evidently. From behind her came those fateful words straight out of the mouth of the man they were supposed to be following: "We're in the wrong position."

In her periphery, Posey watched Winters hurry over to Sobel in a crouched run. When he'd gotten close enough, Sobel informed him, quieter this time, "We're in the wrong position."

Posey shared a look with Johnny, because of course they were in the wrong position. Johnny rolled his eyes again before looking back to the front, though his glare never wavered. He looked as though he'd smelled something so incredibly rotten his face couldn't help but try and twist in on itself to escape. Distantly, Posey wondered how he'd come to perfect his collection of such incredible glares but she remained silent, staring ahead of her and aiming her gun at nothing.

"We're textbook position for ambush, sir," Winters replied quietly. "We should sit tight and let the enemy team come into our killing zone."

Posey saw Johnny nod his agreement at this suggestion in her periphery. She let out a silent sigh of relief - at least someone in a leadership position could talk sense. Maybe they weren't so doomed after all, so long as they had Winters looking out for them.

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