"That's better." The sergeant's eyes narrowed as he searched his memory. "I don't r'member seein' ya 'round this company before."
"Ah don't recall seein' you 'roun' here either," Wims said in suicidal innocence.
"Y'ARE GETTIN' WISE WITH ME!" the sergeant roared. "I'll take care of ya later." He thrust Wims into the pit with the machine gun. "Now stay there on that gun 'til I get back. I'm goin' ta find the lieutenant."
Wims squatted behind the gun, squinting experimentally through the sights and swinging the barrel to and fro.
The sergeant returned shortly with the lieutenant. "That's him," he said, pointing to Wims.
The lieutenant glanced at the green bar. "Are you sure you got that message straight?"
Wims looked at the menacing sergeant. "Yes, suh," he said, swallowing.
"Somebody is crazy," the lieutenant muttered. "Sergeant, tell Lieutenant Haas to cover my platoon. I'm going back to the CP to see Captain Blair about this message. I'll try to be back before the attack starts to either confirm or cancel the order, but, if not, Haas is to hold his fire until he spots the white flare, or the Blues are right on top of us; whichever happens first."
The lieutenant hustled up the hill and the sergeant went off to find Lieutenant Haas, leaving Wims alone with the machine gun and the still unconscious gunner. The distant machine-gun firing had stopped and the white smoke of a screen laid down by the Blue attackers started scudding thickly across the face of the hill, hiding them as they charged.