Eleanor blew a stray strand of hair out of her face as she stepped off of the bus and onto the dusty ground of Camp Toccoa. The ride from Fort Bragg had been nearly five hours long and she'd been glad she'd chosen a light cotton dress for the trip, rather than wearing the Class A blazer and skirt uniform she'd been given. She blew a stray strand of hair out of her face and reached up, trying to arrange it back into the victory roll where the rest of her hair had been carefully frozen in place. She should've at least left her Class A cap out of her luggage so that she could put it on. If the men at Camp Toccoa were anything like the men at Fort Bragg, fitting in here would certainly not be easy.

"Ma'am, Colonel Sink wants you to report to his office. I can take your trunk to your quarters." the Private who'd driven the bus told her. Eleanor bit the inside of her cheek. And glanced at the back of the bus, where the few other men who'd been transported with her were pulling their belongings out.

"If you'll point me to my quarters, Private, I'll do it myself." She told the young man, who sputtered, unsure of how to handle it.

"But ma'am, my orders-" He began, but Eleanor gave him a stern look that stopped him dead.

"Your orders are to point me to my quarters. And it's Lieutenant." She corrected him. She'd been warned before she left Fort Bragg that first impressions would be everything with these men.

"Of course, Lieutenant." The Private complied, still unsure of himself. "You'll be in building F. It's not a barracks - it's one of the private rooms where we have visiting colonels and generals stay. It's that way." He explained. "Colonel Sink's office is just two buildings to the left of that. Do you need me to show you?"

"No, I'm sure I can manage. Thank you, Private Anderson." She replied kindly, reading his name tape. Eleanor walked around to the back of the bus and, thankfully, saw that the other men had already pulled their own belongings out and proceeded to their own assignments. Exhaling sharply, Eleanor grabbed both ends of her trunk and began to pull it off the bus, propping it against her own body to get a better grip on the handles. She wished she'd brought a suitcase instead. She'd packed as lightly as she could, but this wasn't a vacation. The trunk wasn't all that heavy (after all, she'd been going through physical training with the other women at Fort Bragg) but it was unwieldy and took some talent to continue balancing on her heels as she lugged it in the direction the Private had pointed. She looked at the letters printed on the buildings and worked her way toward building "F."

At one point she had to pass one of the men's barracks, and to her chagrin, the men were in between duties and stopped to watch her in surprise. A few let out whistles and one or two offered to help her, but she refused, throwing an effortless smile over her shoulder, despite her burning arms. When she rounded a corner and found that her quarters were just a building away, she put her trunk on the ground and walked around to one end, dragging it the rest of the way.

The building was small, containing a room with a tiny bed and desk, and a bathroom attached. Eleanor sighed in relief when she saw that the bathroom contained both a toilet and a shower. She hadn't been apprised of the shower situation before coming. She picked up the skirt of her dress and dabbed it against her face to get rid of some of the moisture. Georgia, if possible, was even more humid than North Carolina. Pulling open the trunk, she grabbed the stack of papers she'd placed in the top and left her new abode, heading for her first meeting with Colonel Robert Sink.

"Come in, Lieutenant Price." A thick southern accent called from inside the office. Eleanor walked in with chin held high and stood at attention, saluting the Colonel. There was a certain warmth in his chocolate brown eyes and his gray mustache twitched a bit as he spoke:

"At ease."

Eleanor relaxed and offered her transfer papers to the man before shaking his hand. "Eleanor Price, of the WAAC. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, sir."

"Same to you, Price. I've heard a lot of good things about you and the other WAAC women. General MacArthur says you ladies are the hardest working, most disciplined soldiers our country is producing and if that ain't a compliment from the general, then I don't know what is." Sink carried on.

"It certainly is, sir." Eleanor replied. The briefing wasn't really necessary; she knew exactly why she was here. Despite the fact that the vast majority of U.S. citizens judged and ridiculed the Women's Auxiliary Army Corps, the Army itself was impressed. Well, those in charge, anyway. Many generals were already pushing to turn the Women's Auxiliary Army Corps into the Women's Army Corps and eventually integrate them with the men's forces.

However, this was a delicate and controversial topic for the general public, so the higher-ups needed to tread softly. For that reason, they selected five women from the WAAC - officers that had progressed quickly into leadership roles and shown the most promise - to test integration in various military divisions. Eleanor was chosen to join the paratroopers, which was a new concept for a division anyway, so she was like an experiment within an experiment. If the women were able to successfully complete their training and blend in and build trust with their units (and that was a big "if"), the generals would discuss the possibility of allowing them overseas in combat situations on a trial basis.

"I've decided to place you in Easy Company. They're my best group of men and they have a record of excellence. If anyone can set new and higher standards for the U.S. Army, it's them. This'll be another opportunity for them to break ground." He explained, rather pleased with himself.

"Of course. I'm excited to be a member." She replied demurely.

"There is a condition, though." He told her, his face becoming serious. "I have orders to have you trained as a medic."

Eleanor's eyebrows shot up in surprise. A medic? There was a reason she signed up for the WAAC instead of becoming a nurse. How was anyone "breaking ground" by sending her in as a nurse?

"Sir, I-I don't understand. I'm a second officer; I thought that translated to a Lieutenant." She expressed, doing her best to remain calm. Lieutenants were not medics. She'd been to officer's school through the WAAC and she'd worked hard for her title.

"Now I know it's not ideal, but we've got to take what we can get. We can't put you in a command position over these men and expect good results. Unfortunately, you're in a position where you'll have to earn their respect. Now you can keep your title. But on the field, they want you wearing that medic badge. It's the only thing that might keep you from getting shot and making this whole thing blow up in our faces. You're gonna start your medic training tomorrow and you're going to become the best damn medic in this division. Do you understand?" He finished, the stern tone of his voice clashing with the stubborn approval in his eyes.

"Sir, yes sir." She replied.

"Good. Now Easy's about to start PT. Find your CO, Captain Sobel, and hook up with the others. There should be uniforms and gear in your room. You're dismissed, soldier." He told her.

Eleanor saluted and exited the office, stepping back out into the stifling heat. She sighed, pushing the fact that she was now a medic out of her mind as best she could. The hardest part was yet ahead. It was time to meet the men.

Eleanor attempted to comb her crunchy, overly-sprayed hair into a bun at the back of her head and soon decided that she was glad her new abode didn't have a mirror - she didn't have time to worry about her appearance and it needed to drop lower on her list of priorities if she were going to make it at Camp Toccoa. She did however, pull subconsciously at her PT clothes for a minute, trying to get used to them. The black shorts were short and obviously not meant for a woman's hips, and the white t-shirt, which felt a bit tight in the chest area, was an accident waiting to happen the first time she got caught in the rain. She made a mental note to speak to someone about at least trading the shorts in for a larger size that she could cinch tight at the waist if needed. For now, however, she would have to make do.

Shielding her eyes from the sun, she stepped out of her cabin and began walking in the direction of Easy's barracks, hoping to happen upon others of the group at some point. She must've taken a bit longer than she'd thought, because by the time she found Easy's Barracks, the men were already lined up at attention, facing the man she assumed to be her new CO.

If she'd been asked to make a list of how she would prefer to be introduced to her new comrades, this wouldn't have made the list at all. Except, perhaps, in her nightmares. She stopped for a moment before approaching, taking a deep breath and reminding herself that there was a reason she'd made it this far. Feeling a fleeting surge of confidence that only could've come from God himself, Eleanor straightened her shoulders and stepped up to the end of one of the lines, moving to stand at attention like the others. As the CO was laying into a man on the opposite end of her line, she hoped beyond hope that she could go largely unnoticed during this address and introduce herself to the man one-on-one later. However, like dominoes, the men around her shifted their gaze toward her, and the man with the slicked-back hair and the bloodthirsty gaze quickly looked for the source of their rebellion.

"Do you children know what it means to stand at attention?!" He shouted, jolting most of them back to their original stances, staring straight ahead. The man's eyes trained on her and narrowed slightly as he marched down the row.

"I take it you're our new nurse." He said in a low, challenging voice, speaking close enough to the side of her face that she felt vapors hitting her cheek and temple. Great, she thought to herself, resisting the urge to flinch away.

"Medic, sir. Lieutenant Eleanor Price, sir." She corrected respectfully, keeping her posture and gaze straight, all business. The CO, Captain Sobel, she remembered, snorted through his nose. It didn't take a genius to see that it didn't take much for this man to feel threatened.

"Medic, I see. Well, Price, we're about to run that mountain." he explained slowly, patronizingly, as he gestured over his shoulder to the wilderness that sat behind the camp. "I'll give you a chance to go back to Sink now, if you'd like."

Her eyes flicked over to meet his for a moment and she resisted the desire to smack the gloating look out of them. Not dignifying the taunt with a response, she simply trained her eyes forward again, remaining at attention. He stood there watching her challengingly for an uncomfortable amount of time before turning to address the entire company.

"Alright, men! Currahee! Three miles up, three miles down! Anyone who stops loses their weekend pass. Let's go!" He exclaimed, causing the men to break and begin jogging toward the base of the mountain. Although the men sent curious glances in her direction as they passed, they were more wary than friendly. She sighed and followed after them. She was so much expecting to be ignored that she jumped slightly when someone appeared next to her and offered her a quiet "Lieutenant."

She glanced sideways at the man, who stood at least six inches taller than her, with ginger hair and a light complexion. He didn't smile at her, but his mouth quirked slightly in what she interpreted as reassurance. "I'm Lieutenant Dick Winters." He introduced himself quietly, obviously not wanting Sobel to get onto him for speaking during the run.

"Eleanor Price." She told him, careful not to let her words mess up her breathing pattern as she hit the foot of the mountain and began to run at a gradual incline. He didn't respond and Eleanor got the feeling that he wasn't any more comfortable than the rest of the men, but perhaps saw it as part of his duties as second in command to establish some kind of ground with her and lead by example. Eleanor decided that he was probably a good man.

"Welcome to Easy." he said simply, before pulling ahead to run to the front of the group, encouraging the other men as he passed them.

Currahee was certainly Eleanor's newest hell. She'd run six miles before; at Fort Bragg she'd run much farther. However, the base at Fort Bragg wasn't exactly hilly. The incline of Currahee was the worst kind - it was gradual for the majority of the distance, building a slow burn in your thighs, and then the incline deepened in the final stretch, turning your muscles to jell-o. The pressure to prove herself was palpable, and anger drove Eleanor onward as powerfully as the men's pride drove them. She had no problem keeping up, but she was constantly at the back of the group. Every time she successfully passed one of the men, they'd practically cough up their liver in an effort to pass her back. She was the last one to slap the plaque at the top and the last to hit flat ground at the bottom, but she didn't dare let the group gain distance on her. Afterwards, her jaw was working in frustration as she paced back and forth near the gathered group of exhausted men, trying to gain her breath back.

"Better, Easy." Sobel addressed them. "But not good enough. Perhaps it's time to start running in full gear." He taunted, causing a few groans to erupt from the crowd. He quieted them with an icy glare and then reluctantly dismissed the group for dinner. The men began leaning on each other and helping each other up, some of them really not looking so good. Eleanor had thought she might throw up when she stopped running, but the feeling had passed after a minute or two, and besides, her stomach wouldn't have had much to contribute. She hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning, before she got on the bus.

"That was good for your first time on Currahee." Dick Winters said, approaching her. He barely seemed tired and Eleanor gave him a skeptical once-over.

"Thanks." She replied, biting back 90% of what she wanted to say - she was still frustrated that the men had been so determined to outrun her and had, in her mind, made her look worse than she already did to begin with. Winters, however, seemed to pick up on her frustration.

"That's the fastest we've ever run it." He added with a knowing little smirk, holding up the timer.

"Good for us." She replied simply, although her mood lightened considerably with the admission. After all, she'd made the company look good, like Colonel Sink had wanted. Winters continued walking with her in silence, showing her to the mess hall.

In the end, Eleanor was thankful for Winters' sense of duty because- as childish as it sounded- it gave her a place to sit in the mess hall that first night. After getting her food, she settled in at a table with Winters and another man with dark hair and the kind of mischievous look about him that every young girl's mother warns her to steer clear of. Her suspicions were confirmed when he opened his mouth and nothing seemed to pour out but charm.

"Lewis Nixon, ma'am." he introduced himself, standing as she approached and only seating himself again after she settled on the bench next to Winters.

"Lieutenant Eleanor Price." She replied in kind, offering him a hand over the table that he shook gently.

"Tell me, Eleanor, are your ears burning?" Nixon added with a smile, referring to the tables full of men that all seemed to be 'discreetly' rubber-necking.

"Constantly." She replied, returning his smile. The humor was a relief and she immediately felt more comfortable with the situation. "And you can call me Nora. Both of you." She added, earning friendly nods from them. She was tempted to ask them what the men were saying about her, but chose not to put them in that position. Besides, she knew. WAAC women were often judged as promiscuous or as lesbians. It was a simple case of society mocking or, worse, trying to explain, what they didn't understand. She was used to the assumptions, sure. She still had no idea how to combat them, though. She would need to stay on her toes and actively work to change the men's perception of her. One wrong move and she would give men like Sobel a reason to do what they'd already decided to do: get rid of her.

"Easy Company are good men." Winters assured her, seeing the cogs moving in her mind. "It just might take them some time to get used to you."

"What're the chances that this is some kind of prank?" Frank Perconte asked, glancing over at the table where the new addition to their company sat with the officers.

"Nah, I heard about this." Skip Muck replied, stabbing his fork into the meat on his plate. "Buddy of mine at Fort Bragg told me that the higher-ups over there are always trying to find ways to involve the WAAC ladies more."

"The WAAC?" Johnny Martin interjected, a skeptical look on his face. They'd all heard about the Women's Auxiliary Army Corps.

"Well duh, where else did you think a woman in the army would come from?" Bill Guarnere retorted, rolling his eyes.

"You know what they say about the women of the WAAC, right?" Liebgott said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "They make good company." He finished, waggling his eyebrows. Much of the table erupted with laughter, and Malarkey shoved Liebgott in the shoulder.

"Okay, okay." Carwood Lipton cut in, attempting to calm the men down. "I'm sure she's just a normal woman, trying to serve her country like the rest of us." The table quieted for only a moment before Luz started it up again.

"I heard she's an officer." He told them.

"She's a medic. Medic's ain't officers." Perconte reminded them matter-of-factly.

"She's a woman. Women ain't officers." Guarnere corrected, causing the men to erupt into fits of laughter once again. Their rowdiness was beginning to draw attention from the rest of the mess hall and Bull Randleman shifted uncomfortably when he noticed the young woman glancing over at them.

"She damn near beat your ass up Currahee, Perconte." He spoke up for the first time, causing the men to hoop and holler and turn their attention on the short, cranky man.