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They are taking the company off the hill in pieces, and the people at the bottom can count.
The Table is a grass plateau with a scraped strip across it, a stepped slope called the Stair on its north side, and a drainage called the Gut where fog lies every morning. The schedule says it will be nobody's problem by the end of the week. Lieutenant Pratt, Crowbar Three-Six, holds it with a company that gets smaller with every lift, his mortars and aid station already flown out.
Tuck Malloy and Bad Penny cover each withdrawal while the weather comes down off the high ground in the afternoons. Cal Booker keeps writing up a vibration in the tail boom that nobody can find, and every lift leaves fewer men to hold the edge of the plateau for the last one.
