 |
| Cover image: Anzio, A Jack Bell WWII Novel |
The fourth book in the Jack Bell Series of historical action/adventure fiction is now available on Amazon.
We recently published Anzio: A Jack Bell WWII Novel. It is the fourth novel in the Jack Bell series. Each of the novels in the series is set during one of the deployments of the 509th Parachute Infantry Battalion during WWII. (Read the nonfiction story of the Geronimos in The Boldest Plan is the Best). The setting for this episode is the 509th PIB's participation in the Battle of Anzio during the Italian Campaign.
Here's the synopsis:
Naples, Italy 1944
1LT Jack Bell and his fellow paratroopers are preparing to make a beach landing up the boot of Italy. The problem is that the civilians in Naples know where they’re going before they do. When Jack was assigned an assistant platoon leader, he didn’t realize that he was training his own replacement. Sometimes getting promoted is not a good thing. Especially when it puts Jack in the position of escorting OSS officer Boyd Carter on a raid of a German-held blockhouse to “capture” an old friend. Now Carter is wounded and Jack is a prisoner. Can Jack’s friends and the green platoon leader mount an unauthorized rescue?
And here's a sample from the first chapter:
The water slapped against the sides of the DUKW amphibious vehicle as it plowed through the bay. They were headed for the safety of the beach but the sand remained more than two hundred yards away. To a man, the soldiers riding in the vehicle were concerned, although they displayed varied levels of apprehension as the nose of the craft bounced up and down in the swells and water rushed over the hood with each dip.
“Don’t worry, gents! I’ve had her out in rougher water than this!” The driver was shouting over his shoulder to the twenty American paratroopers riding behind him.
“Oh, the quack has had this thing in rougher water than this. That makes me feel so much better,” Corporal Tim Walker said, talking in the ear of his platoon sergeant, Staff Sergeant Roland “Rube” Roubideaux.
The DUKW was a hybrid between a boat and a two-and-a-half-ton truck. The troops called them “Ducks” and the soldiers from the transportation company that drove them were derisively called the “quack corps.” Twenty-two Ducks had rolled down the ramp of the LST floating a thousand yards offshore. Now they motored in two parallel lines toward the beach. Their job was to deposit the paratroopers of the 509th Parachute Infantry Battalion safely on the beach, then turn around and head back to the ship to make another run with troops or supplies. The DUKW had no weapons and no armor protection.
The sun was out and there was a crisp, onshore breeze that morning. As the “boat with wheels” was about fifty yards from the beach, the swells seemed to lesson. Private Robert Sims, the blond-haired kid that seemed to be the only one enjoying the ride, put his foot up on the gunwale. He leaned forward anticipating the moment that Staff Sergeant Roubideaux would shout the command to jump out of the vehicle and onto the beach.
The DUKW hit a swell and Sims started to lose his balance. He tried to steady himself with his left hand on the gunwale, his right hand filled with the heavy M1 Garand rifle he carried. By the time he realized that he needed to drop the rifle and grab the edge of the vehicle with both hands, it was too late. He was on his way to toppling over the side like a tree falling to a lumberjack’s axe. Before he tumbled into the water, Roubideaux and Walker grabbed the private by the rucksack and pulled him back into the DUKW.
“Jesus Christ!” Sims gasped. “Thanks you guys, I almost went for a swim.”
“If you fell in, I wasn’t going to go in after you,” Walker said. “I’m not that good of a swimmer.”
“Don’t matter how good a swimmer you are,” Sergeant Roubideaux said. “All that gear will drag you under. You’d drown before you could get it off. So stay in the damn boat.”
The wheels on the DUKW contacted the bottom and gained traction after a few seconds of grinding on the sand. The vehicle lurched slightly and drove up out of the surf. As soon as the vehicles were above the water line, the senior man in each shouted the command to dismount and the soldiers jumped over the side. First Lieutenant Jack Bell, the men’s platoon leader, was in the vehicle to their right along with the rest of the platoon. They could hear him shouting, “Let’s go! Move it! Get to the top of the shingle!”
The other officers and NCOs of the battalion were likewise shouting as the men ran up the beach and threw themselves down on the sand in a prone position, aiming their weapons at an unseen enemy. Over the sound of the diesel engines of the DUKWs a whistle blew three long blasts, paused, then three long blasts again. It was the signal to stop and hold in place. The training exercise was over. The paratroopers rolled over and sat up, watching the company commanders run across the beach to gather on the battalion commander.
“Has anybody figured out what we’re training for?” Walker asked loud enough for the rest of the platoon to hear. “I joined the paratroopers to jump out of airplanes, not ducks.”
“Rube, you gotta know. Why don’t you tell us already?” Sergeant Tony Diaz, one of the squad leaders, asked.
Rube replied in his usual slow drawl with a touch of Cajun. “I don’t know any more than you do. I’m sure when we need to know, the lieutenant will tell us.” He looked down at the sand between his feet so none of his soldiers would see him smiling. He was always entertained by how worked up they got over something so completely out of their control.
“If you’d just think about it for a minute, you’d be able to figure it out,” Private Al Parrish said. “If we can’t jump, it’s probably because there’s no room for a drop zone. So maybe we’re going to raid an island like Captain Howland did with the scouts before Avellino.”
“Ventotene Island. To take out a radar site,” Corporal Sam Burns said, then pausing to light his pipe. Everyone within earshot stopped talking so they could listen. Burns didn’t join in the platoon banter that much, but when he did the men listened. Burns sounded educated, rarely lost his cool, and when he spoke up, he was usually right. Wearing glasses and smoking a pipe gave him the air of a college professor.
“Maybe an island,” Burns continued. “But then again, maybe we’re just going to go up the coast to get behind the Kraut’s Winter Line. In case you haven’t noticed, the Rangers and the 504th are coming out here learning how to jump out of ducks too.”
Burns is smart alright, Rube thought. Too bad he doesn’t want to be a squad leader. Who knows, maybe that’s smart too.
Lieutenant Bell double-timed across the beach to where his platoon sat in the sand. Rube stood to meet him. The lieutenant waved his hand in a circle over his head as he approached.
“Alright, on your feet!” Rube said over his shoulder, loud enough for the whole platoon to hear. “Gather on the lieutenant.”
“I have some good news,” Jack Bell said to his I & R Platoon as the twenty-eight paratroopers gathered around him. “Colonel Yarborough was impressed with how things went this morning, so we don’t have to load up and do it again.”
“Yeah, nobody fell out of the duck,” Rube said, matching the lieutenant’s jovial tone, but giving Private Sims a hard stare.
“So what’s the bad news, sir?” Walker asked.
“What makes you think there is bad news, corporal?” Lieutenant Bell asked.
“Well, sir, because with good news there is usually bad news,” Walker said, “and with all due respect, you’re way too happy.”
Jack almost laughed but managed to keep a straight face. “I’m happy because I recognize the wonderful training opportunity with which we have been presented.” A collective groan rose up from the paratroopers, along with a few curses.
“Oh, no…” Walker said shaking his head and looking at his boots.
“Yep, we’re road marching back to the billets,” Jack said. “It’s only eight miles and we’re marching by platoons. So the sooner we get back the sooner you can all head out to the Rec Center.”
Up and down the beach, soldiers were climbing up the ten-foot, eroded sea cliff to the road above.
“Alright, you know what we’re doing,” Rube groused to the platoon. “Gear up and climb the hill. Platoon formation on the road. Let’s move.”
If you'd like to read more, Anzio: A Jack Bell WWII Novel is available on Amazon in paperback, on Kindle, and for free with your Kindle Unlimited subscription. Click here to find it on Amazon.
(All links on this page are affiliate links).
No comments:
Post a Comment