A man lies dead on the ground; another staggers down the road, drunk off his tree. Grant offers help. "They wouldn't give me any gas," slurs the man, frenetically waving a pistol. "I tried to explain; this fucking Limey wouldn't listen. I think he was a major." So, it sounds like he shot an Allied officer; I'm no expert on the military, but my best guess is that murdering a major constitutes a tiny breach of protocol. Grant gently tries to coax the man's gun away, but the pistol goes off in a moment of fury and a bullet smacks the top left portion of Grant's skull. Determined to sign his own death warrant, the culprit hops into the dead major's Jeep and hightails it away into the night. "Sarge!" screams one of Grant's men. "He's hit!" Look, this is it, okay? I've had it. I can't take any more of these guys getting mortally wounded or killed. So the next time it happens, I'm going to switch the channel and start recapping whatever's on TNN.
Speirs, barely concealing his fear, learns from the battalion doctor that Grant probably won't live much longer unless a brain surgeon operates on his head. As opposed to the brain surgeons who perform vasectomies. Grabbing Talbert, Speirs orders him to root out the bastard who felled Grant. "I want him alive," Speirs growls dangerously.
Briskly, Talbert gathers the men. He relays Speirs's orders that an NCO should guard each roadblock, with two men watching all roads leading out of town. Bull and Malarkey will each cull together a squad and comb camp for witnesses, performing house-to-house searches if necessary.
Speirs impatiently raps on a neighborhood door. "Open up," he demands. The startled older man balks when Speirs forces the door open and brandishes a weapon. "Come with me," he orders. The man stalls. "Get in the Jeep," Speirs insists, grabbing him and dragging him closer to the car. "If you're going to shoot me, shoot me," pleads the man. "If you're not, put the gun away." Speirs shoves him into the street again, at which point the man notices Grant's body lying in the back of the car. "He was shot in the head," Roe explains. It seems Speirs has scared up the only brain surgeon in town, which is mighty resourceful of him. Unless he found a phone book,or a copy of the script that said, "Bang on the door on stage three." It's all very convenient that Hitler kept a brain specialist in Berchtesgaden. Having spotted blood gushing freely from a head wound, the doctor deduces that Grant is the injured man and peeks at the injury. "If you want him to live, you'll help me," urges the man. "First, by putting the gun away." Reluctantly, Speirs lowers his weapon. The doc then demands to be the driver, and Speirs lets him. Speirs's worry about Grant is adorable -- if the doctor wanted nothing but to put cream cheese on Speirs's nipple, I think Speirs would make it happen.