It was cold, damn cold. Growing up in Iowa Corporal Kevin Ryan was used to cold winters that seemed to go on forever, but this was nothing like the winters of his youth. The forest floor was covered with a foot of snow and it was easily 10 degrees below zero. The temperature in his foxhole was slightly warmer then if he were above ground, but 5 degrees here or there wouldnt matter anyway. He had only been in the Ardennes Forest for a little less then 36 hours, and already he hated it.

He wasnt supposed to be here; a few days earlier he was a file clerk at SHAEF (Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force). He was a poor clerk and his superiors knew it, so as a result when the Germans mounted a last ditch effort to beat back the allies they were not upset to let him go. History would later call this offensive The Battle of The Bulge, but at this point the young corporal didnt know or care what it would be calledhe just knew that he wanted to be home.

In the cold, muddy ditch that became his bed, kitchen and bathroom he thought about the last hot meal that he had, it was four days ago in England. The simple meal of eggs and toast didnt stay down for too long once he was aboard the transport ship. The powdered eggs and stale toast now sounded like a gourmet meal compared to the dry, cold "K" rations that he was currently forced to ingest. But even K rations were getting hard to come by. Either the Germans would cut off the supply line or begin an artillery barrage when the platoon would line up to eat.

He also recalled his arrival to France via the long secured Omaha Beach. This was one of the beaches that just a few months earlier was host to one of the greatest military feats in all history. It was a place where thousands of men his age died and also where his best friend Captain Mike Kleckner had met his death while bravely leading a charge to take out a machine-gun nest.

Kevin was the son of a Major General named Patrick Ryan. A highly decorated veteran of The Great War; Patrick was the epitome of how an officer should be. He was a strict man who knew only discipline and honor. He graduated from West Point at the top of his class and quickly rose through the ranks. He was known through out the army as an officer who demanded excellence, and who could be brutal if he didnt get it.

Many who new of his father asked why Kevin hadnt applied for Officers Candidate School (OCS), that way he could be commissioned and lead men into battle just like his father had? Kevin would reply like a politician would when asked a question of the sort. He said I dont want special treatment from any of the officers or men I am involved with. He had also said It just wouldnt be fair if a Generals son became an officer just because of who his father is, while a farmers son is stuck in the infantry because of who his father is. The truth of the matter is that he flunked the OCS examination. This didnt bother Kevin because by his line of logic; officers were the first people to lead men into battle: in other words the first people to get shot.

Kevins mind was wondering from one thing to another when a husky sergeant barked an order at one GI to go and scout ahead of their position. This reminded him of his life just before the war. After the events of Sunday, December 7^th 1941 Kevin had no choice but to enlist, his entire town and family expected him to follow in his fathers footsteps, it was the very last thing he wanted to do. He hated military life, he had been raised an Army brat and rebelled every moment of it. Most of all he hated the discipline. The food and the training he could deal with, but there was just something about when someone told you when and how to eat, sleep and even defecate that rubbed him the wrong way. It wasnt that Kevin lacked patriotism, (he had been the first person in his town to support Roosevelt when he asked congress to declare war on Japan and Germany) it was that Army life just wasnt in him. Some of the folks in his town didnt want to join up for moral reasons. One man who had been in training to become a minister when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor said, I just cant justify killing one of Gods creatures. Kevin on the other hand had been hunting since he was ten and the concept of killing a living being didnt phase him. Kevin was 15 the first time he went hunting alone. At the time and had lots on his mind. His father had been pushing him pretty hard lately, always asking why he wasnt getting better grades, why he quit the baseball team and what he planned to do with his life. The only thing that Kevin did that his father couldnt complain too much about was hunting. The only time that his father would let down the ambiance of being a two star General was when they were hunting. Patrick would never come out and say good job or Im proud of you it was more like well, you got it but just barely or next time dont shot so quickly.

While walking through the woods he came across a very small herd of deer. There were five in all, three females and two males. It was just after dawn and there was a mist still in the clearing where the deer grazed.

Kevin figured that the oldest buck was the leader of the group, he was a very large animal and if for some reason Kevin missed or just wounded him; he might end up with antlers where the sun dont shine. He looked at the younger male, he was not nearly as large as the adult but would make a nice trophy all the same. The young buck seemed inexperienced and was wandering away from the group.

He decided that this was the deer he was going to take home and hang over the mantle; this was the deer that his father couldnt say anything bad about. He watched the group for about ten minutes, it seemed that the young buck was more interested in the foliage around the edge of the clearing then where the rest of the herd was going. Kevin spotted his chance; the buck was coming more and more into the woods where he was laying on his belly, his rifle ready to fire. Kevin aimed for the bucks chest he wanted a clear shot to the heart because he didnt want the head to be injured (that was the part that would be stuffed and mounted). He was about to squeeze the trigger when a bird startled him and his shot hit the shoulder of the animal. The rest of his herd ran as the echo of the shot bounced among the trees, but the wounded animal couldnt run. It tried to but fell, tried again and managed to get a few yards but fell again. Kevin was happy that he hit the animal, but wanted to do it in one shot, he could already hear his father chastising him for not hitting his mark the first time. He walked over to the buck that had already gotten up a third time, but it didnt fall over. Kevin could see that the wound was mostly superficial it just seemed to bleed a lot. Kevin shook his head and thought about what his father would say had he been there; Not only did you fail to kill the deer in the first shot, but the wound you did inflict was minor. The buck seamed to be in shock, it didnt try and run away anymore it just stared Kevin in the eyes. To Kevin this was haunting for two reasons, first looking someone in the eyes is a very human trait and second, the deer was looking at the person who had just tried to kill him. By this time Kevin was both angry (that he didnt kill in the first shot) and disturbed at what was happeningthen he remembered his father. He knew that if he didnt bring home a trophy buck he would never hear the end of it. Not to mention what would happen if he told his father that he just let a wounded animal go. Nothing was ever good enough for Patrick Ryan, or at least nothing that Kevin did. That is probably what made Kevin the maddest, he saw his father give out medals and praise to complete strangers, but he just couldnt say the two words that Kevin wanted to hear most good job. Kevins mind went back to the buck, he inhaled sharply, raised his rifle looked the animal in the eyes and fired point blank into the chest of the beast. It dropped like a stone; the bullet had gone through the heart, exactly where Kevin had wanted it in the first place. That day as he was dragging the buck home he made sure to drag it with the side he shot first down, this way the wound would look like it was a result of being dragged through the woods, not the result of a startled hunter. When Kevin got home his father had just gotten home from a meeting with his superiors. He was in a bad mood because he learned that most of funds he had requested for special projects was going to a different fort, one that had more promise (at least thats what his bosses said) then the one where he served. This was the height of the depression and money was tight, especially for a post that had shown very few results since Patrick Ryan had taken over. When his father saw the good size buck that Kevin dragged in all he could say was its not very large. He then commented on the wound that was on the side of the deer, he said good thing we only want to use the head because the body looks like hell, did you purposely go across the rocks? Kevin responded with a quick no sir, I didnt realize that I was doing that. Patricks response hurt Kevin, he rolled his eyes, muttered to no one in particular; that boy doesnt realize much does he?

Those days were long gone and instead of firing at any enemy whos only defense was running away he now faced one who could fire mortars and artillery from miles away.

The thing that surprised Kevin the most was that the noise didnt bother him much; other solders would go nuts from the constant artillery and rifle fire. One poor SOB couldnt take it anymore and started to run from his foxhole. He got about ten yards before a mortar hit him dead on, all that was left was a foot and steel helmet. The Ryan family home was very close to a practice artillery range so Kevin was used to the constant barrage, it was the bitter cold that got to him. He had never been so cold in his life. Even colder then when he and his younger brother Declan fell through the ice in a pond close to their home. Kevin got out all right but his 7-year-old brother didnt make it. Even though his father never said so Kevin always suspected that he blamed him in some way for not protecting Declan, the way a big brother should.

His couldnt feel his feet at all, his face and hands would barely move. His unit had been under artillery fire for an hour, if the pattern kept up the Germans would stop in about ten minutes or so. In about eleven minutes it stopped. Kevin took advantage of the lull to poke his head out of his foxhole. To his left two of his comrades shared a large foxhole; they were Privates Reif and Trego. They were friends before the war and were lucky enough to end up in the same unit, if you had to go through hell it was always good to have company.

Kevin looked at the two and missed his own friends back in the states, but most of all he missed his fiancé. Her name was Valentine and she was a beautiful, curvy woman who he was madly in love with.

She was very well liked by his mother but his father once remarked (after what seemed like a gallon of brandy) that her people were all thieves and bandits.

Valentines Puerto Rican features gave her an exotic quality that made her especially beautiful. Her most distinguishing feature was her hair; it was very, very long and extremely curly. It is the kind of hair that woman with strait hair would kill for. He also loved her big smile, she had the whitest teeth and she always was showing them. Her smile went well with her smooth skin, in some places it was as white as Kevins own Irish completion, but in others it was olive in color.

Kevin waved to the two solders to his left and looked to his right, there were a group of privates and corporals and the Lieutenant, Bobby Sorrels. Just as Kevin turned away he heard a single gunshot. He turned back just in time to see Lieutenant Sorrels falling back into his foxhole, dead from a snipers bullet. This was badvery bad they had no leader and the Jerrys were just about to launch an infantry attack. He could hear Trego in the next hole cursing and beginning to return fire. The entire unit started up with the small arms fire. Just then Kevin saw the outline of a rather plump German coming through the forest, there was no moon that night so the solder had to be very close for Kevin to see. He took no chances, these were no deer, they were intelligent creatures with very large guns and considering that they had got the Lieutenant with one shot they had good aim. The young Corporal aimed his BAR (Browning Automatic Rifle) at the man and fired; it was clear shot to the upper torso, the man went down quickly. Kevins confidence began to rise; if this was the best that Hitler could send, he thought then I should have no trouble killing a couple of dozen Jerrys and maybe spend Christmas in Berlin.

Corporal Ryan learned that he was wrong very quickly, out of the mist and darkness it seemed like the entire German Army was bearing down on him. He fired back and dropped two more Germans, he heard a mortar explode to his left and knew without looking that Trego and Reif were gone, at least they went together Kevin morbidly thought to him self. The attack waged on, Kevin had begun a game of firing off a few rounds then ducking back into his foxhole. In the brief moments that he was above ground he could hear the screams of both Germans that were hit and the men in his own unit. The funny thing was that they both sounded the same, the only way he could tell who was who was to determine what direction the scream had come from. If it was from the front, it was a German, from the left, right or back, it was an American. The thing that Kevin found most disturbing was that he was hearing far more screams from his right, left or back then in front. The Private reloaded his weapon and was about to jump up again when he realized that he didnt hear men getting hit anymore, at first Kevin thought this was a great turn of events, but then he came to the realization that may be there was no one left on his side for the Germans to fire at. By this time he was running on just adrenaline, in a desperate maneuver he jumped out of his foxhole to survey the damage, unfortunately he was right, all of the American service men around him were dead or dying. One private (whos name Kevin had never learned) was laying with his right leg dangling from a thin strip of skin and muscle. He was yelling for a medic, but no one came. Kevin felt sorry for the bastard but also hoped that he would shut up, the more he yelled the easier it was for the Krauts to find them. In a few seconds the private wasnt yelling anymore, his chest, however continued to rise and fall slowly which meant that he was still alive. The best that Kevin could guess was that the young man had passed out from pain. Kevin decided that there was no need for him to stay any longer, his unit was gone and his chances werent looking too promising. The Germans would capture the wounded man, but they treated their prisoners in accordance with the Geneva Convention, so he would receive the medical attention that he needed.

Corporal Ryan began to turn tail and run, but he heard voices behind him, he quickly dove behind a tree and surveyed the scene. There were three Germans walking toward him; they looked almost relaxed, their guns swung over their shoulders it appeared that they were a scouting party, looking at the damage they and their comrades had done. Kevin knew that as long as those men lived, there was no way he would get out alive. He raised his BAR and fired three quick shots, his aim was true and all three men went down. He jumped up and just as he was about to get the hell out of there one of the men he hit began to scream in German. Schnell, schnell he repeated over and over. The German, (who looked like a junior officer, a Lieutenant most likely) was pointing in Kevins Direction. Kevin didnt speak a word of German but he knew that the officer had to be shut up. He ran over to the fallen man and saw that he had shot him clear through the shoulder. The man held up one of his arms and saw the crazed look in Kevins eyes , the German knew that Kevin was not here to capture him, but to put him out of his misery. Meine God, nein! he repeated over and over again.

Kevin aimed his rifle exactly at the young mans heart and was reminded of something that happen a few years earlier. Then he killed for sport and for the acceptance of his father, but now he killed because he had to. Was it all that different though? It was the same situation but just different prey. Although it was rather nuts, he thought that his father would be proud of him, not of the fact that he didnt kill in one shot, but that he didnt quit before the goal was completed. But it didnt have to be like that, his father would never know that he had run, and this was not a deer, this was a human being who had a father of his own, maybe even children. He was going nuts; he couldnt figure out what to do, there was a battle inside him almost as bad as the one that had occurred outside him. Kevin had made a fatal mistake in warfare; he hesitated. His father had one told him that hesitation in certain aspects of life could kill him, as it turns out this was true. The German saw the hesitation in Kevin and reached for his side arm, he brought it up and fired before Kevin knew what happened. The bullet from the pistol went strait thought Kevins Heart and came out the other side, but Kevin to his credit fired a shot at the German just as he was about to hit the ground, it was more reflex then anything else. The shot killed the German and Kevin hit the ground hard. In the last second of his life his mind was a swirl or thoughts and emotions he thought of Valentine, of Mike and of his brother Declan, his very last thoughts were of his father. He thought of all the times that he had chastised him and thought, Well, I finished the job at least now he cant complain.