Back in her time Read Online Free PDF Page A

and shoved it, too, into his pockets.
    â€œThe cook wagon. There’s cold beer,” yelled a soldier as he ran past.
    Taylor was left standing alone but she knew what the fuss was about. After all, it had been her idea to tell the cook how to cool the beer. The cook would surely save one for her.
    She sauntered over to the men, some swigging, others just sipping, enjoying their barley drink.
    â€œHow’d you know how to do that, Junior?” asked Whitey.
    â€œScience class, back home,” said Taylor modestly. Pops told me this story, and we tried it in science class with pop bottles.
    â€œCook says he just buried the bottles in the ground for a couple of hours, and we got cold beer, just like Junior told him,” said Red. “I’d of stayed in school if I’d knowed we’d learn good stuff like this.” Everyone laughed.
    â€œPass a cold one to Junior. He deserves it,” said Mac.
    The cook said, “He may be under twenty-one, but what the hell. Let the boy have a drink.”
    Taylor grabbed the stubby bottle and swallowed a big mouthful. It isn’t my first taste of beer. Here’s something else Pops won’t be too happy about. Me drinking. This is nothing compared to the junk I’ve tried. If he knew …
    After Taylor and the cook received several pats on the back, the men finished their beer, found their bedrolls and pup tents, and went to grab a few hours’ shut-eye. Taylor slipped out of her tent and headed to the bushes to relieve herself. Buttoning up her trousers, she bumped into Mac outside his tent.
    â€œShy kidney, eh, Junior? I was like that for a while. You’ll get used to peeing in front of the guys. Takes practice.”
    Not likely.
    * * *
    â€œAre you finished with the news, Junior? I was wondering if I could have it now.” said Red as they marched north with the spring sun warming them. But he can’t read beyond grade three, the guys say.
    â€œWhat do you want it for?”
    â€œThe cartoons, of course. That Blondie and Li’l Abner. They make me laugh till tears roll down my cheeks. And Herbie. Did you see the one where he’s holding that antenna thing and shaking outside the radio shack? The voice inside says, “It’s working now, Herbie.”
    â€œOh, sure, take it,” said Taylor, “but I’d like it back. I didn’t get too much time to read it.” And I still need to see what’s going on in this century.
    An explosion a few miles straight in front of them silenced the ranks. Flames spurted into the sky almost as high as the CN Tower.
    â€œJeez,” said Whitey as they ran for cover behind their own tank brigade.
    â€œSonovabitch,” said someone.
    Sarge yelled over the noise of the heavy artillery, “Leave the tanks! Take cover wherever you can. Panzers are up ahead blowing us to bits. Our tanks are going in.”
    â€œShouldn’t we go too, Sarge?” said Taylor.
    â€œThere’s not much infantry can do against tanks with just a Bren, a PIAT, rifles, and a few grenades. Give our Shermans a chance to shoot them up.”
    The men felt useless, some lying in damp fields and others in an olive grove, waiting for the battle up ahead to conclude. Taylor stared up at the white flowers and silvery green leaves of the tree she was under. This sucks. How can these trees flower with this war going on? Messerschmitts caught her eye through the branches as they raked the sky overhead but were soon tailed by Lancasters and Mosquitoes. A moment later, a thunderous roar could be heard. They must all be deaf over there, or soon will be.
    The men changed positions when rocks pressed into their bodies as they lay on the uneven terrain. Red appeared to be napping, eyes closed, mouth open. He was probably snoring, but Taylor couldn’t hear it with all the racket. It seemed to go on for hours, but had been probably only twenty minutes when silence finally ensued.
    Taylor