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startled a convoy of Americans, took them prisoner and then proceeded to execute them as a group corralled in the middle of a field. A dozen or so of the Americans began running into the nearby trees with several German Waffen SS troops in pursuit. Upon impulse, Kurt joined in on the chase, not to capture or shoot G.I.s, but to get away from the blood-thirsty SS Lt. Col. Joachim Peiper and his panzer henchmen.

Kurt was a medic who had been picked up Peiper’s battalion after he became separated from his own medical unit, a part of the 6th German Panzer army. After two days with Peiper’s Waffen SS, Kurt had seen enough brutality on enemy troops as well as Belgium farmers and their families.

And now the German medic somehow had been overlooked by pursuing SS troops. Kurt’ luck was more than he had hoped for. Still, more distance was needed between him and the SS unit. At last report, the American lines were to the north. If he could make it to their front lines, he would surrender and get out of this damnable war.

Blood on the snow could be seen at various places throughout the forest. Heavy foot tracks snaked among the bare trees. Snow was falling again in much heavier quantities. Most of the tracks and probably most of the bodies and blood would be covered by nightfall.

Kurt reckoned most, if not all of

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Avoid using foreign-language phrases in your articles unless they have a certain je ne sais quoi.

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Mule Trading the SS troops had returned to Five Points where this terrible business began. The snow was coming down harder and it was beginning to get dark. No soldier on either side wanted to be out by himself in such conditions -- no one except Kurt Junger. The massacre he witnessed was so despicable. He would never forget the Bauguez crossroads. It was nothing more than a clearing in the forest where five different rural Belgium roads met. The village of Malmedy is to the north and west of the junction where the American forces should be. Kurt reckoned his best bet was to keep heading northwest. He didn’t know what he would do once he came in contact with American troops. All he could think of was the white handkerchief he kept in his hip pocket.

Curtis & Leroy saw an ad in the Starkville Daily in Starkville, MS. and bought a mule for $100.

The farmer agreed to deliver the mule the next day.

Kurt kept thinking to himself, “Had he out-run his comrades? What if he runs into an American patrol? He then thought of a line he once heard in an American film, “Will they shoot first and ask questions later?”

Kurt suddenly froze. He heard heavy breathing with a slight moan. He stepped carefully forward. On the north side of a huge oak was an American G.I., badly wounded in the arm. He was bleeding from what obviously was a gunshot wound. The soldier was nearly ready to pass out. He came to his senses as Kurt approached him. The G.I. didn’t have a weapon, which made Kurt feel more at ease. He bent down to examine the

The farmer said, “You can’t raffle off a dead mule!”

Leroy said, “We shore can! Heck, we don’t hafta tell nobody he’s dead!”

A couple of weeks later, the farmer ran into Curtis & Leroy at the Piggly Wiggly grocery store and asked.

“What’d you fellers ever do with that dead mule?” wound. The American appeared to be terrified at the sight of a German soldier. Kurt held both of his hands up, indicating he was not going to hurt the soldier. He knew only a few words of English. Would they be enough?

“Friend,” Kurt said in a firm voice, looking directly into the soldier eyes. “No kill. Friend.” continued on page 3

The G.I. slump back down in a sitting position, resting up against the tree. Kurt had no first-aid equipment with him. Neither did the American. All that was available was the white handkerchief in Kurt’ pocket. “My flag of truce,” he thought.

The German medic tore away the sleeve of American’s uniform exposing the wound. Kurt grabbed a handful of moist soil and green moss from the tree, spreading it onto the wound to stop the bleeding. He then carefully wrapped the arm with the white handkerchief.

Kurt then got to his feet and reached down to pull the American to his feet.

“We go,” Kurt said.

The G.I. pulled away with a frighten look.

“Go America,” Kurt said in halting English with a smile.

Limit all U.S. politicians to two Terms. One in office. One in prison.

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Politicians are people who, when they see light at the end of the tunnel, go out and buy some more tunnel. ~John Quinton

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I offer my opponents a bargain: if they will stop telling lies about us, I will stop telling the truth about them. ~Adlai Stevenson, campaign speech, 1952

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Veggie burgers had no natural predators until vegans arrived.

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I’m so classy, my mind’s eye wears a monocle.

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Whenever you’re feeling inadequate, just remember, you were the fastest sperm. no one can take that from you!

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I once belonged to a church, which I soon left. Reason? The finance committee refused to provide funds for the purchase of a chandelier because none of the members knew how to play one.

The next morning the farmer drove up and said,”Sorry, fellows, I have some bad news, the mule died last night.”

Curtis & Leroy replied, “Well, then just give us our money back.”

The farmer said,”Can’t do that. I went and spent it already.”

They said, “OK then, just bring us the dead mule.”

The farmer asked, “What in the world ya’ll gonna do with a dead mule?”

Curtis said, “We gonna raffle him off.”

They said,”We raffled him off like we said we wuz gonna do.”

Leroy said,”Shucks, we sold 500 tickets fer two dollars apiece and made a profit of $998.”

The farmer said,”My Lord, didn’t anyone complain?”

Curtis said, “Well, the feller who won got upset. So we gave him his two dollars back.”

Curtis and Leroy now work for the government.

They’re overseeing the Bailout & Stimulus Programs.

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This is from a guy who retired down south and moved to his wife`s hometown in Minnesota. He was born and raised in Tyler, Tx.

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Pretty proud that after all these years I still have the body of a 22 yr old triathlete. In my storage shed.

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Decided I needed a little more peace and quiet in my life so I bought myself a phoneless cord.

Snow from page 2

A look of relief fell over the G.I’s face. His eyes softened, moving from frightened to relief. The American struggled to his feet. It was obvious he was worn out from running. So was Kurt, but together they must keep going. There was no indication the SS troops had given up their chase, nor if they still were in pursuit.

It was dark and the sky was clearing. There was no moon, but the stars were as bright as Kurt had ever seen them since he was a boy growing up on a farm near Kassel. The forest was quiet and the heavens were peaceful. How could such a terrible war be going on?

The only sound being made were the struggled footsteps on the two men. The G.I. was leaning more and more onto Kurt. From timeto-time he would moan in pain, but Kurt would make a shhhhh sound – the international language for quiet.

After what seemed like two hours and many kilometers, Kurt halted, hearing voices ahead. The voices were in English. Americans?

The wounded G.I. grabbed his new friend’s hand, motioning for him to stop. He then pulled Kurt to the ground, motioning with his hands to stay put. The G.I. then crawled forward toward the voices. Kurt could only wait and hope he wasn’t going to be betrayed.

The G.I. crawled into the darkness, out of sight. Kurt then heard louder conversation.

“Hey, Mac. I’m a Yank. I’m wounded. Don’t shoot.” It was the voice of the G.I.

“Yeah, how do we know that? A bunch of Krauts have been passing themselves off as G.I.s came the reply.

“I’m First Lieutenant William J. Oliver of Alexandria, Virginia. “I’m from Company A of the 328th Engineer Battalion.”

Silence.

“Okay, buddy. What’s the two baseball teams in St. Louis?” Came another voice.

“Do you mean the two big league teams, or do you want me to name the Negro team as well?” came the G.I.’s reply.

“Smart ass. The Bigs, of course. So what are they?”

“The Browns and the Cardinals,” came an exasperated reply from the wounded G.I.

“Who does the Gas House Gang play for?” Came another query from the darkness.

“The Cardinals, of course.”

“Okay, buddy. Come on in.”

“Wait, I have a friend with me. He saved my ass, so I don’t want him harmed?”

“What the hell? Came a reply.

“It’s okay,” the G.I. called back to Kurt. He apparently doesn’t speak any English, so don’t get too excited,” said the wounded G.I.

Kurt crawled forward about 50 feet more where his new-found friend was waiting.

“Now, guys, don’t get excited. I’m bringing a Gerry in with me.”

“What? Are you shittin’ us? Is he your prisoner? How do we know he’s on the level?”

“He wants to surrender. This guy saved my life. Come on. Promise me you won’t shoot him if he comes in. He has given me his pistol,” the G.I. said. He motioned for Kurt to hand him the weapon. Though he could barely see in the darkness, Kurt complied by offering the Lugar pistol, butt first. Kurt wasn’t supposed to be carrying the weapon. He had taken it off of a dead officer when no one was looking.

Then Kurt and the wounded G.I. struggled to their feet and walked slowly to where the American voices were coming. Kurt continued to support the wounded soldier as they moved in the direction of the American voices.

Within in a minute or two, four American soldiers surrounded the two men. At least Kurt was praying they were Americans. He put his hands above his head. Even though the four figures had voices, the darkness masked their features until up close. He knew that some SS units had donned U.S. uniforms to infiltrate American units. Were these soldiers part of that group?

“This guy saved me from an unbelievable death,” the wounded G.I. said. “I don’t want him hurt or mistreated. I think he was trying to outrun the Germans as much as I was. He’s not SS, but those assholes that were chasing us certainly were.”

Kurt said nothing, but understood for the most part.

The wounded G.I. turned to him continued on page 5