Once Around the Block

"The Deer Are On Our Side" I was ordered to take my squad on a reconnaissance patrol. We were in a heavily wooded fir tree forest. The leafy trees had lost their leaves and visibility was a few hundred feet. The winter leaves were thick on the ground so we had to step lightly to avoid them crackling underfoot. A reconnaissance patrol is just that...to observe without being seen and not to engage the enemy unless we were drawn into a firefight. I strung my men out in a long single file line, twenty feet between them to avoid being drawn into an ambush. If we were surprised and hit, the men could build up on a line of skirmishes and use their firepower on a broad front. My rear man was Private Lowell. From past experience I knew he was a level headed soldier and I felt secure in his brining up the rear. We had progressed about a half-mile into unfriendly territory when my point man signaled for a halt and got down on one knee. Everyone along the line picked up the silent signal, and like the ripples on a whip, followed suit. The tension began to build up because the point man was not relaying what it was that caused him to crouch. Obviously he was observing something, but he was not sure what it was. He signaled for me to come up to his position. As we crouched together, the object that was puzzling him began to take flickers of shape through the distant foliage. It was a deer. I took it as a good sign for if there was enemy activity, the deer would have left for safer feeding grounds. I looked back to the half hidden men and waved for them to start moving forward, all clear, when a shot rang out to our rear. Our instant reaction was AMBUSH as everyone hit the ground, but before we even bounced, we recognized it was a shot from an M1. The German Mauser with a much higher velocity had a higher pitch. Private Lowell did what comes natural to any boy who was born and lived most of his twenty years in the woods of Tennessee. When you see a deer, you shoot at it. If there were any Germans within a mile of our patrol, they would be ready for us. At this point the patrol had nothing to gain...not even deer venison, Lowell had missed his shot. I motioned the patrol to return to base. I approached Lowell shaking my head and said, "It's open season for Germans, the deer are on our side."