"He is your replacement, Lieutenant," the Colonel said. Then he shook hands with Blake. "Goodbye, and good luck!"
The jeeps growled into life. It was strange hearing them, Jerry thought. Usually there was the hum of the city in the background, a sort of whispering that made you realize a throbbing community was nearby. Now it was only the silence broken by the raucous sound of jeep motors. Eventually even this sound disappeared.
"All right, men, start clearing up this mess," Blake snapped. "The gun has to have free traverse. After that, stay at your posts. It's going to be tough to handle this assignment short-handed, and when the secondary attack comes it's going to roll in like a tidal wave."
The replacement was hardly more than a kid. Jerry thought he looked as though he could be pushed over with a heavy breath. Not much of a replacement, but he pitched into work earnestly.
Jerry edged close to Peterman as he worked. The wounded man sat propped against a pile with his legs stretched out uselessly in front.
"They didn't even offer to give you medical aid, Peterman," Jerry said.
"I didn't expect it at a time like this," Peterman said. "The men that are left have their hands full."
"For what? You heard what the Colonel said, the Government is gone—possibly the whole country! What we're doing isn't even a delaying action. We're hardly going to harass the Enemy! What's the good of hanging on? Why doesn't the Army turn us loose? I've got to find out how my wife and kid are doing! Staying here only means one thing—one foolish, stupid thing!"
"You've got a point, Conlon," Peterman said through his pain. "I've got a family too. I'd be tempted to take off myself, if I had legs."
"Duty! Allegiance! What does it all mean now?" Jerry said bitterly.