Gunfire commences against the German trench, which immediately responds in kind. Agitated, Donnie realizes he can't see and climbs up a tree. Then, seeing no point to being there without a really kick-ass tree fort, he decides to go ahead and start shooting, sparking a real melee of metal projectiles nicking branches and scaring up a flurry of leaves and wood chips. Compton inches close to the trench with Malarkey and Gonorrhea, pantomiming his plan for them all to lob simultaneous grenades into the trench and then go for the two-point conversion. Dirt flies and explosions rock the terrain. A dying German fumbles for his gun and puts Compton in momentary jeopardy because his ammo has run out; Gonorrhea saves him by shooting the bleeding enemy. Winters surveys the situation from behind some very resilient shrubbery.
Fleeing Germans are felled by Allied bullets ripping into their backs. More soldiers have joined the Big Three in the trench; Lorraine gamely fires at a lone German but misses badly. Gonorrhea curses, calling him a Jeep jockey, and picks off the soldier with two well-placed shots. They're now deep in the German trench, which is a long tunnel that widens near where the giant guns sit and, in some cases, has sheltered areas for hiding. They're being fired upon by a gun that's pointed at the three Easy is trying to disable; evidently, this was the Germans' way of protecting the trenches from any treat encroaching from behind, but clearly it's not been terribly effective. Wynn, a.k.a. Popeye, moans to Toye that he's been shot and he screwed up and is deeply sorry. Wish we'd seen it happen.
Peeking through a shard of glass, someone spies a German winding up to pitch a grenade, and the Easy man shoots him, causing the grenade to drop just outside the trench instead of in it; it helps but still causes disruption. The explosion kicks up a shower of soil that knocks Toye atop a bleeding Popeye. Rattled, Toye emerges unscathed, and Gonorrhea shouts that he's a lucky bastard. Meanwhile, Popeye is whining in full Southern splendor: "Ah didn't mean to fuuuck uuup. Ah don't thank it's tooo baaaad," he moans with exaggerated inflection. "But ah don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies!" Compton checks the festering ass wound and marvels at its beauty. Winters arrives in the trench, makes sure Popeye is okay and tells him to crawl back to safety. They heave him out of the trench.
A blast drizzles the trench with more dirt; the camera work is more frenetic now. Compton yanks out the key and is about to throw a grenade when another explosion jostles him and he drops it. Screaming for everyone to take cover, Compton flees and the grenade blows just as Toye is trying to pull himself over the trench wall. "Toye!" shrieks Compton, who runs to his fallen acquaintance. Dazed, Toye sits up -- safe again -- and brushes soot from his shirt. "Fucking TWICE!" he says, shakily. Now that is a bad day; it appears Toye broke a few dozen mirrors before landing in Normandy. And here I thought losing my keys six times in one day (yup, it's true) was a streak of bad luck.