Plastering yet another goofy grin on his face, Webster approaches 2nd Platoon's truck and informs them of his transfer. No one reacts. They're all depressed, too -- Malarkey in particular; he's standing, but staring absently into the distance and barely acknowledging the existence of anyone. Aw, Malark, I miss Buck too. Keep that hairy chin up, pal. "Jackson, right?" Webster says to a young kid sitting on the edge of the truck bench. Jackson confirms the ID. Webster looks around and wonders why there isn't an officer present; Liebgott pipes up that Malarkey is receiving a battlefield commission. "Jackson, help me up," Webster orders, but the kid only slides over and makes a half-hearted reach to stabilize Webster's rifle as he heaves himself onboard. At that second, the truck starts up with a jarring motion, knocking Webster onto his seat.
Liebgott studies Webster for a second, then curiously asks whether he's been in the hospital. "What's it like in that hospital?" Liebgott snipes. "'Cause we left Holland four months ago." Webster, ignoring the implication, explains that he wasn't there the whole time; he also needed rehab and then had to go through the replacement depot. Liebott sarcastically says he's sure Webster was trying hard to bust out and help his old group get through a grueling campaign. "Don't know how I would've done that," Webster says, his smile losing strength. "Funny...Popeye found a way," Liebgott says, gesturing to his friend. "So did Alley, right?" So did Gonorrhea. But it's a little unfair to harass Webster for not being a renegade like those others; still, I want to slap Webster for the happy-go-lucky attitude he's projected, like he expected everyone to kowtow to the brave soldier who beat a leg wound in four months. Although part of my urge to slap comes from wanting to touch Eion Bailey's face. Is that wrong? Webster asks whether Gonorrhea is still a platoon sergeant, so Jackson fills in the details of Gonorrhea's wound. Given all the disastrous injuries, Webster seems remarkably unaffected by it all, except to be mildly surprised and faintly desirous of a bear hug and a big slap-you-on-the-ass fantastic greeting.
The trucks stop in the town center. Webster gets out and calls for Malarkey; as he does, the shrill sound of a descending shell pierces the air. Malarkey just turns around and plugs his ears, but Webster dives for the ground and covers his head. Let's hope that fatigues conceal urine stains. "What's the matter there, Webster?" Malarkey asks, amused. "Nervous in the service?" Webster tries to act nonchalant, as though he didn't just brick his trousers. Malarkey orders him to company CP, telling him that he should make sure Captain Speirs wants him in 2nd Platoon. Webster's face is blah when he learns Winters is now running the battalion. It's a good thing Eion Bailey is pretty, because he's not going to win any acting awards. I have a shoe that could've brought more life to this scene.