Replacements

S01E04

Later that night, one residual explosion pops off in the flaming tank. Randleman looks scared for the first time. He's hiding out in a barn, lying on the hay and getting his grenades and ammo in order. Apparently convinced the Germans aren't equipped with a sense of smell, Bull then bites the end off a cigar and looks primed to light it and fill the air with telltale smoke. Ooh, saved by a knock -- a native man sneaks into the barn and Bull pounces, pinning him against the wall and holding a knife to his throat. As the man trembles and Bull stares him down, a pretty, waifish blonde walks gingerly inside, frightened of what might befall her. Slowly, Bull registers this, and decides that the man is friend, not foe.

Webster sadly covers the body of Klink, who couldn't overcome his Swiss-cheese chest wounds. Webster looks broken. "I didn't fire a shot the whole time," someone moans dejectedly. Someone reports that Lt. Brewer is going to live, which absolutely shocks all the men who saw the extent of his horrible wound. "He did turn his head at the last second when Sgt. Randleman called out to him," Pvt. Faceless muses, and everyone exchanges glances at the mention of Bull's name and the idea that even a small gesture might've saved Brewer's life.

Bull hustles the Dutch man and his wife into the barn, where they hide as tanks pass and Germans loudly confer. As he reaches for his gun, Randleman winces, and we see a wound on his shoulder; the man gently moves to look at it, bathing it in water from Bull's flask and then tearing a hole in the uniform. Bull winces, pained, as the man reaches into the mess of blood and tissue to retrieve the bullet. He can't, so Bull lends him a knife. I thought this would be really gross, because the camera shows this Dutch man digging around soggy crimson goop and using a knife to dig a bullet from flesh. But really, it just looks like he's dipping into a big pile of strawberry jam. And while I may now never be able to eat strawberry jam ever again, the comparison kept my stomach from doing its usual flip-flops. The man grabs a cloth to press against Bull's shoulder, but at that second German voices come closer to the barn and each of the three people draws a sharp breath.

Bull skips forward to investigate, but bolts back into hiding when he sees a posse of explorers coming to secure the barn area. While he runs, the red-stained cloth drops from his shoulder onto the barn floor, but Randleman doesn't notice. Laughing, elated at the simple victory, the Germans half-heartedly poke around and shine flashlights through the building but don't really seem to consider a cavernous stable -- filled with the same hay they used to conceal a tank -- as much of a hiding place. Guess that could be why they ultimately lost this thing. The last remaining German is about to leave when he spots Bull's hanky and freezes. Eyes wide, he whirls around and calls out what I imagine equates to, "Is somebody there? Come forward!" or possibly, "If you don't want this, can I put it on eBay?" Randleman launches a surprise attack and slays the man with his bayonet, slicing and dicing and making German julienne. When he finishes, Bull peers up at the terrified Nuenen natives, blood splashed all over his face and looking very Lord of the Flies. Panting, he stares at the duo before man and wife shake their heads in shock and run away. Okay. They sucked. They had all the point of a baseball.

The Replacements stare nervously at the officers, aware that they're about to get the kind of Gonorrhea for which there is no salve. The blustery bloke plops down in the only empty seat and stares intensely at the trio. "That's Babe Heffron's seat," one of them pipes up, and Gonorrhea fixes his gaze on the vocal one. "I don't care if it's fucking Eisenhower's," he snaps. And now, the writers grant me the one thing I've craved: a blatant, even ham-handed way of attaching names to faces. The Replacements are Pvts. Miller, Garcia, and Hazboy. "I know who you are," Gonorrhea says. "Old Gonorrhea doesn't miss nothing." I can think of a few people from high school who could probably vouch for that. The privates look edgy.

Compton steps up to take aim, and just as he's about to throw, Luz taps him on the arm and mock-curiously asks whether Compton plans to shoot lefty all night. Compton makes a gesture as if to say, "Oh, I forgot, that's why I wasn't playing well," and switches hands. This all feels very Princess Bride to me. "I'm just curious because he's right-handed," Luz whispers to Heffron, who looks half-amused and half-pissed that he's clearly been had. "What would I do without George Luz?" muses Compton, throwing the dart and hitting his shot with precision. Grinning, he and Luz demand their two packs of smokes.

Gonorrhea decides to tell a dirty joke. "Heffron tell you about Doris yet?" he asks The Replacements. Gonorrhea claims that, on the first aborted mission, Heffron was first in line to jump, but that he stopped dead in his tracks because he saw a painting on the front of the plane -- a pinup girl with the words "Darling Doris" printed underneath. "That happened to be the name of a skirt who just that day sent Babe one of them letters," Gonorrhea says. Poor Heffron got a Dear John letter from a woman named Doris, Gonorrhea claims, and it freaked him out; then the mission was aborted. "Babe doesn't have to risk getting inside ol' Doris again," finishes Gonorrhea with a cackle. That was a really lame joke. My IQ just dropped ten points.

Turning to Bull Randleman, Gonorrhea says that his squad listens very well. "They're being polite," Martin says. "Like whenever Bull opens his mouth." Faking shock, Gonorrhea says, "Are you saying Bull's boys are humoring him?" Martin winks and says, "Yeah, like whenever he gives out some of his folksy wisdom from back home on the farm." Gonorrhea sputters, "They think he's a fucking hayseed!" Bull just looks amused, puffing away on his cigar and dreaming about that time he asked out Brenda Walsh, and then laughing because no matter what happens to him here, she'll still be psychotic. The Replacements giggle, too, until Gonorrhea snaps his head around and barks at them to stop laughing. Mortified and quite a bit confused, the privates bite back their mirth and stare at the Sergeant. "He's the smartest guy in the company," Gonorrhea says of Bull. They have some kind of deprecating friendship. Bull's just a big lug, Gonorrhea's a hard-nosed Philly boy with a heart of gold, and Martin...he's there, too.

The discomfort isn't over yet for The Replacements. A weedy-looking guy called Cobb leans in toward Miller and hisses, "Where'd you get that?" He points to a single bar pinned onto Miller's uniform, a navy-blue-ish rectangle. Nervously, Miller answers that it's the Presidential Distinguished Unit Citation commending what the regiment did in Normandy. Angrily, Cobb hisses, "Right, for what the regiment did. You weren't there." The promo made it look like this was building into an enormous, catastrophic spat. But Cobb only looks fierce in a "If we was back home, I'd be siccing my right-mean billy goat on yer yella' ass" way, not in a "If you meet me in a dark alley, or even a well-lit alley, you're a dead bastard" way. From afar, Hoobler yells at Cobb to shut up, because it's a unit citation, after all, and Miller is in the unit now. A tense silence blankets the group until Miller, hand trembling, removes the badge and places it on the table. Rising, he catches Bull's solemn eyes, sadly looks into them, and leaves. Bull takes a controlled stroll over to Miller's empty seat and picks up the badge. "Shit, Cobb, you didn't fight Normandy neither," Bull says softly, walking away. Cobb looks caught out for a moment, then says to no one in particular, "I got [shot] in the plane before I had a chance to jump." The two remaining Replacements consider this for a second, then raise their eyebrows.

Smokey jumps up and shouts to get everyone's attention. We also know Smokey as Pvt. Gordon; this new nickname is no small measure of torture in a show that struggles to make even its core characters a relatable, identifiable group. On so many levels, I want to scream. Smokey Gordon introduces Donnie to the group as Easy Company's new 1st Sergeant, and everyone applauds. Donnie looks distinctly uncomfortable, which is his job, because all he does is notify the men when they need to make out wills because another brutal mission is being developed. And indeed, this is no exception. "Hate to break the mood, but we're moving out again," Donnie says solemnly. Smokey looks totally depressed, as though the sudden sad shower is completely his fault. And it is, obviously, so he will be destroyed. The Replacements look terrified at this turn of events, and Bull Randleman just looks contemplative while he sucks on a cigar.

Lt. Winters briefs the men on Operation Market-Garden, an enormous Allied offensive the scope of which dwarfs Normandy. The division will drop deep into occupied Holland and attempt to take Eindhoven and Arnhem, thus clearing the way for British armored divisions to advance. This, they believe, will eventually help scoot the Allies over the Rhine and into Germany. Donnie looks nervous, Hoobler and Gonorrhea look edgy, and Martin looks plain scared. Nixon says, "The entire European advance is put on hold to allocate resources for this." For the mission, they'll be placed under British command, which elicits loud groans. How polite! Although I'm sure a few British hearts will skip a beat when they hear Gonorrhea is heading their way. Nixon raises a few spirits by saying that this offensive could end the war by Christmas. Malarkey nods appreciatively. Allied intelligence also indicates that the German troops in Holland are mostly comprised of old men or kids; plus, the daytime jump is expected to be rather easy and a surprise to the enemy. "In any case, say goodbye to England," Nixon concludes. "I don't think they're going to call this one off."

Planes zoom overhead as the soldiers line up to board the planes. Replacement Hazboy loads his gun; Replacement Garcia sees this and enquires about it. "I'm doing what Cobb did," Hazboy explains. Cobb imperiously points out that jumping ready to shoot is the surest way to stay alive -- short of not jumping at all, apparently, which saved him last time. But as Garcia begins to ready his weapon, Bull Randleman walks over, grabs it, and removes the bullets, the implication being that experienced men don't always know best and that Cobb is a skinny dumb dumb-ass.

Suddenly, a Jeep rolls past and catches the men's attention. It's the return of Ross, looking just as deeply penetrated by an ass-rod as ever before. He stares coldly at Talbert, Gonorrhea, Malarkey, and Hoobler, probably trying to figure out which one is which. Martin and Randleman are equally startled to see him. Ross's bitter glares only underscore what a little, little man he is. Hopping out of the truck, Ross allows himself one minute to gather composure before approaching the men. He's got Popeye Wynn in tow; Donnie greets him enthusiastically, having last seen him on D-Day when Popeye took a bullet in the buttock. "I busted out," Popeye says proudly. "I didn't want to get reassigned to another unit," so he left the hospital early to make sure he rejoined Easy in time for Market-Garden. Donnie is thrilled. "I can jump," Popeye grins. "I just can't sit." Bull Randleman approaches and welcomes him, then asks how Wynn picked up Ross. "He's the newly appointed regimental [supply officer]," Popeye says, adding that, amazingly, Ross agreed to give him a lift back to Easy. "Couldn't believe it," Wynn laughs. "Maybe he's gonna court-martial me later."

Ross spies Malarkey, who salutes his former commander. Ross leans right up to the sergeant and whispers, "You thought you'd get away with it?" Malarkey plays dumb. Apparently, that motorcycle and sidecar from the end of "Carentan" were stolen; that would've been a helpful detail that gave this scene some context, but instead we get a minute of boring clutter padding the episode past the sixty-minute standard. Ross barks that the bike is "U.S. Army property. That might not mean anything to you, but it means something to me. Where did you find it?" And that's it. Now, if Ross had administered a good, hard spanking, that might've been something to behold, but as is, this scene is stuck in a fruitless search for context.

Bull stares at Ross. Bull is good at staring, almost as adept as Winters is at knowing looks and invisible smiles. Hey, everyone's got to have a talent. He explains to the newbies that Ross was Easy's first CO, but "got promoted." He says it with tempered revulsion, as though the Army promotes the useless so that they're far away from the people who perform actual combat and feats of courage. Modified slightly, that's probably true of just about any industry. Witness the failed entrepreneurs who now work as venture capitalists.

A lieutenant begs Martin to tap his leg when it's time to jump. Martin groans, "Lieutenant, you'll be in the doorway!" The guy looks embarrassed and says through clenched teeth that it wouldn't kill Martin just to give him a wee smack when the green "jump" light flashes. "The green light will be to you," grunts a frustrated Martin. Meanwhile, Bull grabs Replacement Garcia, checks his equipment, and utters a rapid-fire list of instructions before moving on down the line. Garcia looks momentarily alarmed, then swells with the pride of the moment and darts off across the field toward the jets.

September 17, 1944, Holland. The sky is replete with billowing arcs of cloth, parachutes unfolding and gracefully dropping their human cargo onto a Dutch field. Liebgott, sweet Liebgott, drifts across the screen and wriggles for me to prove he's alive and not too vexed at me for kicking his bucket a few weeks back. The men rein in the chutes, gather their supplies, and skip around in search of pastry. Well, that's what I'd be doing, anyway. Bull kindly helps a newbie to disentangle himself from his chute, without a word of admonishment. He's a lover, that Bull. The pervert in me is imagining all kinds of explanations for that nickname.

Easy settles into ditches outside a town, which is either Eindhoven or Son; checking with the book, I see they hit Son first, but enjoyed similar greetings at both towns. Cobb and Hoobler excitedly dart over to the gang and hand out what look like bottles of beer. Cobb and Hoobler clearly know how to party; this somehow brings new meaning to the idea of shotgunning a brewsky. It seems they raided a nearby farmhouse. The same hot officer from the Aldbourne pub trots over, and I instantly pretend not to recognize him from his role as the supportive boyfriend of the star ballerina in Center Stage. His name is Webster, and his letters to his parents are frequently quoted by Stephen Ambrose because they're rather eloquent. He's a Harvard boy. Webster doesn't do anything here, but that doesn't matter -- when he does, I'll know it. The group reassembles and guardedly marches into town, unsure what it will find there.

One flickering orange banner gives way to hundreds, hanging from town windows and pieces of string hanging up between buildings. The villagers are ecstatic to see Allied forces, their saviors against German tyranny, and they sing what sounds like a Dutch translation of "Stars and Stripes Forever," although I don't know when that song was written. The entire town is a hoppin' party. They totally think it's 1999. Women swoon and grab the soldiers, hugging and often kissing them. Hoobler tears one of his comrades away from the melee, while Donnie instructs Bull to keep his squad moving forward. "Where are the Germans?" shouts Hazboy. An amused Garcia, wrestling with a woman clamped around his neck, laughs that the Germans could be anywhere around town and they wouldn't notice. A matron grabs Perconte and hugs his face to her prodigious bosom. Donnie removes him, but not before her dizzying cleavage knocks the lad's wind clear into Denmark. Winters and Nixon stop to consult their watches and conclude that the clock is ticking; the men must proceed through the jammed streets so that they can clear more towns. Winters gets a peck on the lips, and he distractedly but politely thanks the woman before moving on with his day. His tongue and his libido remain admirably restrained. Some of the Dutch insist on a photo with the Americans; kids have on orange party hats, the orange flags are flying. It's a Syracuse University football game.

Talbert's lips are clamped onto a village lady's mouth, and they're researching the texture of each other's taste buds. The verdict: satisfactory. But Talbert is yanked away, and as his conquest lustily stares after him, she's corralled by two thugs. They drag her, against her will, through a crowd of chanting Dutch folk whose shouts pollute the air with a menace that clashes with other villagers' abject joy. The woman is forced onto her knees and weeps copiously while her head is cruelly shaved. Others, scraped and bleeding and with nothing but nubbly clumps scattered on their naked skulls, have swastikas etched onto their foreheads and are crying amid the town's vocal, scathing derision. Compton, Winters, and Randleman watch the scene unfold, shocked and disgusted that the anti-German sentiment took the Dutch to this extreme. "What did they do?" someone asks. "They slept with the Germans," a blond man answers. "They're lucky -- the men who collaborated were shot."

The Dutch man unintelligibly introduces himself. He's with the Dutch resistance, and has been "waiting and hoping for this day." Dutchie promises he can help secure the bridges, and proudly calls over the child spy who he claims can find the German line. Nixon's incredibly skeptical. Dutchie defends his spies and reasserts his desire to help. It strikes me that I don't care. At all. Winters accepts the man's help and sends out scouts to the edge of town.

Webster is looking hot near a haystack on the aforementioned edge of town. The tedium thus far has so consumed me that I pause the tape, shamelessly staring at his sweet mug just to get the blood flowing again. He's napping with Van Klinken. Who? Exactly. Hoobler sneaks over and wakes them up, because with a name like that, you've no choice but to be a randy scampster. They run over to a farmhouse, but encounter the owner and his son; they introduce themselves and he asks how long they'll be around. "As long as we have to. They don't tell us much," snarks Webster. "Or feed us much." The farmer brightens and darts inside, returning with three jars of freshly pickled veggies. "They all speak English, they all love us," Webster grins cutely. "What a fantastic country." In return, he offers a cigarette to the farmer, who elatedly lights it and puffs his way into paradise. Suddenly, Webster eyes the young boy, and offers him a chocolate bar. The child pops a morsel of yummy chocolatey goodness into his mouth, and breaks into a serene smile. I know exactly how he feels, and I'm running to the fridge and grabbing one of those Dove thingies and I'm eating it and ohhh....Yeah, that's the stuff. Webster is moved. "He's never tasted chocolate," the farmer says emotionally. Webster looks thrilled to have given the gift of chocolate. To me, that makes him the most benevolent man of all.

Tanks plow through fields of lavender and yellow flowers. Some soldiers walk beside them, and others have hitched a ride; there are about seven tanks in all. They pass a sign that says "Nuenen," which means they're past both Son and Eindhoven now, and Webster notes that Van Gogh was born in Nuenen. Oh, please let someone lose an ear here. By the side of the road, they see a battered, shorn woman cradling a baby, and one soldier passes her his rations. Martin looks profoundly upset by her fate -- guess she didn't get the one with the chocolate brownie.

The tanks slow, but the lead lieutenant -- Lt. Brewer -- proceeds toward Nuenen and the men are somewhat startled because he's a very easy target. Bull yells at him to stop moving; at the last second, Brewer turns, and a sniper's bullet fells him instantly. As other men dive off the tanks and into the roadside ditches, Randleman runs up to the fallen lieutenant to see whether he's somehow still alive. He is, and Bull screams for a medic, who is then shot himself as he tends to Brewer's oozing throat wound. Randleman returns to his squad and commands the men to keep moving; as they do, they pass the bleeding Brewer and stare agape at the extent of his wound, certain he's a goner.

Easy moves into Nuenen, sprinting across a field and toward various town buildings the company wants to secure. Allied tanks take a big hit, reduced to charred, smoking heaps. The ensuing scene is, I think, the most confusing one yet in terms of tracking who does what, why, and when. Just as we're identifying people and getting invested in their fates, the battle scenes become less lucid than ever. It's one step forward, two steps back with this show -- and I get sick when I'm moving backward. Just ask the station wagon from my childhood. Anyway, Compton and Randleman get their men in position, hiding behind building walls and scouting the area for any movement or sign of German forces. Bull freezes, certain he's spotted a tank. I think the long gun barrel poking out from a haystack might have been his first clue, unless of course that haystack is just extraordinarily happy to see him. Martin spies the same tank, but from a different angle, and as soon as British tanks are visible in the distance, he hoofs it out of town to alert them. Martin wildly points to the Germans' general location and encourages the tank driver to blast the bastard machine. "Don't see it," says the Brit, who we'll call Nigel because, let's face it, that's probably his name. Martin rolls his eyes and says that's precisely why the tank is where it is, what with this being a war and the Germans being aware of the concepts of strategy and hiding and whatnot. He suggests that Nigel shell the building so that they can get a clean shot at the tank, but Nigel shakes his head and says that his orders are to destroy as little property as possible. Well done, Nigel. That little edict of misplaced benevolence would seem to give the Germans a certain advantage. Frantic, Martin screams, "It's right there!" But Nigel is resolute. "If I can't see the bugger, I can't bloody well shoot it," he yells in response, borrowing a pen from the Grim Reaper so that he can sign his own death certificate.

Suddenly, from his spot inside Nuenen, Bull sees the German tank slowly turn its weapon toward the British. It's a chilling sight, because Bull's completely powerless to disarm or disable the thing, so he's left watching and praying for intervention from Allied infantry. Nigel suddenly spots the tank and his jaw drops, just in time to watch it fire upon the other British tank right behind him. Before Nigel can get off a shot of his own, his tank goes up in flames as well. Panicked, Randleman screams for his men to fall back; the German tank then decides to go ahead and level a few buildings just for sport. As Bull flees on all fours, he notices a fiery shell of a British tank still moving in his direction, but in an increasingly crooked path toward the roadside ditch Bull now inhabits. He's in danger of being crushed when it inevitably topples. Bull floors his internal gas pedal and keeps scurrying while staying out of sniper sights.

Easy is atrociously mismatched here, because Allied generals sorely underestimated the German troops' ability to mobilize its soldiers and rebuild morale after bruising losses. Easy's soldiers, outmanned and without sufficient firepower, are caught in this decimated Holland town, trying desperately to escape. Webster and Hoobler run around dodging bullets and dead bodies. Martin catches sight of Randleman's predicament and looks worried because the tank approaching Bull is poised to explode. Martin fulfills the show's melodrama quota with a slow, agonized, "Buuuuuulllllll!" uttered in such a way that you'd expect to see him throw his body under the tank in slow motion. Aw. His buddy's in danger. Not one to dwell on it, or possibly ready to nail the bastards who might end up rubbing out his pal Randleman, Martin turns and promptly starts shooting at snipers. One of Compton's men bazookas the entire top floor of a building where a handful of gunmen were stashed.

Replacements Miller and Garcia look scared, a mighty useful defense against hostile forces. Hoobler, Webster, and Van Klinken plow through a hedge; as the last of these bursts through, a barrage of enemy fire blasts him in the chest. Yow. Talbert pops up to fire a quick bazooka shot at more windows, but then another German tank crops up and wreaks more fiery havoc on Nuenen. Just a bunch of old men and children, eh? Age doesn't seem to matter if you've got heavy artillery. Easy is getting trounced. Gonorrhea and Compton start screaming for the men to retreat. Webster and Hoobler are freaked about their dying pal Klink, who's hanging onto life, but only about as tightly as he's hanging onto the blood gushing from his torso. A few men lined up against a brick wall decide to bolt for the other side of a field; moments after they make a break for it, German shells level the wall. When the smoke clears, only the corner still stands; huddling in it, petrified, is Cobb, wishing he'd been shot in the airplane again.

Easy continues its race to leave Nuenen; Luz points out that the Germans have infantry all over the place. No one knows where Randleman is, which scares Martin. A few soldiers lie in ditches to provide protective fire for the ones still trying to flee; a shell hits Replacement Miller's ditch while he's reloading his weapon. Garcia and Hazboy scamper over to check on their friend, and stop sharply when they see his lifeless, bloodied skull. In highly technical terms, Miller is Way Dead.

While Compton pauses during his crawl to safety, snipers rip a bullet through his strapping ass. Malarkey stops with him; apparently, the bullet went clean through both buttocks, which is astounding. Compton gingerly touches his wound, wondering in what godforsaken world it's fair for the Germans to tear him not merely one fresh asshole, but four. As the medic runs over, Compton brave-little-soldiers that they should leave him there for the Germans. Buck, it's an ass wound, not a missing limb. If the far-less-strapping Popeye Wynn can live through it, so can your hot swaggering self. Malarkey wants to carry him, but Compton is far too swarthy, hale, and hearty -- too much man for Malarkey's skinny shoulders. But not for mine! Rrrrowr. Unwilling to leave a beloved lieutenant, Malarkey blows the door off a building and they use it as a stretcher, with Gonorrhea's help. Ah, Gonorrhea. Always in the mix. "One bullet, four holes," he giggles. "It's a miracle." Compton doesn't think it's as amusing.

Winters, from a safe distance, screams for everyone to hustle onto transport trucks. Nixon anxiously asks how badly they've been damaged as a unit. "Don't know yet," Winters replies, and at that second a rogue bullet whizzes through the air and into Nixon's helmet, knocking him down. "Nix!" shrieks an understandably terrified Winters, diving onto his pal to check his vitals. Dazed, Nixon lifts off his helmet and stares at it wonderingly. His only mark is a bullet burn across his forehead. Nixon says he's fine, but then gets totally alarmed by Winters's experession and begs for confirmation that he is, in fact, as unscathed as he feels. Winters nods. "Quit looking at me like that!" Nixon says, comically, in a wobbly voice. He struggles to his feet.

Donnie approaches and tallies the damage: four dead, eleven injured. Almost as an afterthought, he adds that Randleman is missing, which does upset Winters. But, they're unable to linger much longer in this enemy zone, so the trucks pull away to leave behind Easy's first failed mission. Its first flop. Hey, guys, call Mariah Carey. She knows how you feel. Webster flexes his hand, thickly coated with the dried blood of his pal Klink. Cobb has the shakes, and Garcia and Hazboy can't quite absorb what just happened; Garcia looks like he feels doomed, a rookie amid a battle in which even seasoned fighters aren't surviving. Hoobler looks on the verge of tears, and Toye's eyes are already flooded. In a low voice, Gonorrhea asks where Bull is. "I don't know," Martin gravely intones, squinting at the disappearing village behind them because four out of five soldiers think better when their eyes are mostly closed.

Night in Nuenen. Tanks are in flames, the buildings are wrecked, and German soldiers swarm the streets. We pan over to a tiny hollow under a bridge, in which Randleman is squatting with his gun ready and his brow furrowed.

Easy's men dig bigger ditches, because you know what they say about the size of a man's ditch. Gonorrhea walks over and curtly -- as is his way -- asks whether anyone in Bull's squad has heard news of their sergeant. "If there ain't no body, then there ain't nobody fucking dead, okay?" he snaps as a way of consoling them. If only soap-opera characters paid heed to that creed. Gonorrhea decides to double back and search for his friend, but Garcia and Hazboy volunteer instead; Gonorrhea allows a thin smile before whispering, "Go get him." Inspired, Webster grins. "All right, what the hell," he shrugs, and the entire squad tromps off in search of its beloved leader. Cobb, of course, doesn't want to go. He's still got the shakes and he's just weedy and gross and unlikable enough that it's possible he'll be The One To Go.

Webster takes the lead. From the distance, they see German tanks still actively moving around the Nuenen area and decide to sneak some other way into town; we see a flash of light on Cobb's face as he talks to himself, so he did apparently decide to join rather than be a chickenshit. Meanwhile, gentle Bull buries the dead German under some hay.

Nixon and Winters watch fires blazing on the horizon, a shot we've seen employed in "Day of Days" and which will no doubt show itself again. Winters notes that Eindhoven's being bombed. Nixon, bursting with insight, says, "Yeah." They gaze resignedly at the disaster and agree to turn in for the night. Nixon sighs, "They won't be waving so many orange flags at us tomorrow."

Daybreak. Bull either knows the Germans are gone, or believes them to be a nocturnal people, because he strolls right out into the town center without a gun drawn. Before him lie corpses of his Easy pals; the sight of Miller's crusty head wound particularly tugs at him. Just as he's fingering the private's dog tags, he hears a honking Jeep approaching and waves to the soldier on board, who looks a whole lot like Hoobler and so I'm deeming it thus. Nearby, Bull's squad approaches on foot, excited. Except that by now he no longer needs rescuing, but it's the thought that's important.

The Jeep carries Randleman back toward camp; he encounters the Randleman Rescue Party. Bull says he's delighted to see his men again; "Not as glad as us," one of them says. "We'd almost given up on you, boss." Martin runs over when he sees the car, elatedly shaking Bull's hand. "Get a little lost?" he asks. "No, a flaming tank almost crushed me, and you saw it, asshole. Thanks for helping me with that," Bull is too polite to say. Gonorrhea skips over and says, "I don't know whether to slap you, kiss you, or salute you," he grins. He jokes that he told Bull's "scalawags" not to go on the suicide mission to rescue their man, but they wouldn't listen. "I told them don't bother," Gonorrhea pretends. It's cute, actually, because Bull's men are glowing with happiness and pride at having gone to find him; Gonorrhea and Martin are thrilled to have their friend back but are feigning nonchalance. Bull smiles. "Never did like this company none," he says. Aw. He's endearing.

Easy moves out, and Winters stares calmly at them as they pull away. Bull, his shoulder bandaged, sits on the back of an open truck and nods a hello to Winters, who twitches back with something resembling relief. Winters is the king of fractional smiles. Nixon appears and Winters cracks a non-joke about the incorrect "it's only old men and kids" intelligence about the German army. He hates retreating. "There's a first time for everything," Nixon shrugs. Winters asks how the other divisions did in Market-Garden, and Nixon hedges by admitting, "I think we have to find another way into Germany." The last truck pulls away, leaving ruined towns in its wake.

Easy's regiment, the 506th, lost 180 men and had 560 soldiers wounded during Market-Garden. The entire 101st Airborne lost 750 men and had 2100 injured.