Elsewhere, the onslaught hasn't abated. As bullets smack the land around him, a minister gives extreme unction to dying men felled on the street. Hoobler is amazed and calls it to Malarkey's attention. "Crazy fools, the Irish," Hoobler says. "You should know." But he's clearly touched.
Upstairs in a captured building, a private named Smokey pokes his gun out of an upstairs window and shoots retreating Germans. Almost all of them go down, tipping into lakes or pitching headfirst onto the grassy knoll. Somehow, amid the carnage, Easy ran out the enemy and claimed Carentan for the Allies. I'm not sure how or where this happened, because it looked like a complete shellacking the whole time, but who am I to argue with history? To have achieved this, they're incredibly brave, probably a little crazy, and damn fine soldiers. Go Easy! Have a slice of provolone on your irony sandwiches!
Winters strolls the street as a white horse approaches. "I'm Sgt. Farnsworth from Able, 501st. I'm here to tell you we got it clear from here all the way to the north of them Krauts, sir," the excited officer says. Winters proudly notes that 506th regiment cleared the southern positions. The Lone Ranger rears his stallion and departs. "Lieutenant Winters! Is it safe to cross now?" a rotund man asks. "We want to move the wounded." Winters half-giggles and swaps amused looks with Nixon, who always seems to be around but never seems to do much except swap amused looks with people. Suddenly, a stray bullet ricochets into Winters's leg; pissed, he limps off-screen and curses his bad luck.