Moral Support
"They depended on each other. And the world depended on them."- Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg, Band of Brothers
It was after Bastogne, France that Eugene really felt the heavy weight on his shoulders, it was always there but the last few weeks seemed harder. The Germans and cold weather had left its full effect on every man, some seriously wounded and many didn't return – Muck, Hoobler, Penkala, Guarnere, Toye, Julian and Renée. Some of them, Eugene had no power to help like the mortar shell that had gotten Muck and Penkala, but that didn't stop him from feeling that he could have done something different.
Letting out a deep breath, trying to rid the thoughts in his mind and exited the med station to collect some fresh air. It had reached late afternoon, yet it felt much later as the coldness bit at his skin, however it was pleasant compared to the snowy weather that had been in Bastogne. His feet crunched the dirt underneath him as he determined where to go, he knew most of Easy would be at the pub and though he wasn't the drinking type, Eugene was desirous to simply be surrounded by laughing people.
He had made his decision to follow the sounds of the pub when he caught sight of a soldier crouched against the stone wall of the side of the house. Eugene was tempted to ignore it, like he hadn't seen the distraught in the man's posture but he couldn't, it went against every bone in his body to walk away from someone who needed a hand.
Instead of his feet taking him to the pub, he reared off to the side of the stone building and observed the soldier. The man's dirty blonde hair and lean body wasn't someone that Eugene was familiar with and figured he wasn't an Easy boy. A boy, that's exactly what his age appeared to be as he had to have been younger than himself.
Eugene stood in front of the soldier, he didn't respond to having someone in front of him like one would. He could remember his grandmother telling him, the best way to connect to someone was at their level, their equal. With that in mind, he crouched in front of the soldier who still seemed to be lost in his thoughts, something a lot of men did these days with their traumatic experiences.
The medic asked the simplest question to try to communicate with the soldier. "You alright?" The soldier nodded his head slowly, his brown eyes in the distance. "How are you sleeping?" Eugene enquired again, if it was anything like the rest of his company, he wasn't getting much. The soldier merely repeated his previously nod. "You eating enough?" Eugene questioned again, trying to get a verbal response from the soldier who looked off colour. "Nightmares?" The one word caused the man to pull into himself, hand tightening around the gun and hunching over further.
While he still didn't respond verbally, his body language was enough for Eugene to know that he'd found the source of the issue. Eugene thought of another way to get the solider at ease - make a connection between himself and the man. "I get them." He stated a matter of fact in barely a whisper. "I always see the men I couldn't save, their blood on my hands." He felt his throat get tight thinking about the large number of men lost in the war. He looked down at the ground of his dirty boots, trying to recollect himself as he was here for the soldier in front him.
Still staring ahead of him, not really seeing his surroundings the soldier spoke quietly in a harsh tone. "The ones I've killed and the friends I've lost, they will never leave me." Soldier whispered, squeezing his hands to stop them from shaking. "I'm a killer." He said in a matter of fact tone.
"No you're not, a killer wouldn't feel the guilt that's running through you, the nightmares wouldn't be there." Eugene said confidently, switching his place to lean his back against the stone wall next to the young man.
It was quiet between them, each lost in their own thoughts as soldiers' and citizens' walked by. "Thanks Doc." The soldier finally let out a heavy breath, his shoulders losing some of their tension.
Eugene could recall his grandmother saying that simply talking can help ease the mind, which was the most humble tool that they had out in the middle of Europe in a war zone with little supplies. It also helped to know that they weren't alone in their thoughts because every soldier was struggling with something similar.
Slowly Eugene got up from his seating position, figuring he'd spend enough time outside and they'd need some help back at the med station. "Just remember, you're not the only one experiencing this, talk with your friends." He turned to leave when he received an understanding nod from the soldier. It felt good to know that he could take simple actions to help someone and none that required him to pull out his med kit.
The young soldier shifted his weight, watching the medic slowly walk alone down the road. He couldn't help but wonder if he took his own advice. The dark lines under his eyes were evidence that he pushed himself to his limits, no doubt caring for others before himself like he'd seen the medics' in his own company do numerous times. "Same goes to you Doc!" The soldier's voice rises slightly, causing Eugene to stop and take in the man's words.
Eugene reflected that he did feel marginally better at making his small confession. He had a lot bottled up and he truly didn't want to become a concern for anyone around him, they all had their own worries and roles in war. On the other hand, he couldn't keep isolating himself or he wouldn't be good to anyone when they needed him most. Yes, he needed to take his own advice - he had a whole company of brothers by his side.
Revised: 13/04/18