Disclaimer: ...don't own Band of Brothers...just Alice.
So all I've been doing for the last couple weeks is watch Band of Brothers and researching the real Easy Company. So you can say I'm a little obsessed with World War II right now...though, I always have been.
And it's all in how you mix the two,
And it starts just where the light exists.
It's a feeling that you cannot miss,
And it burns a hole,
Through everyone that feels it.By the way, my words were faded.
Rather waste my time with you.
Well you're never gonna find it,
If you're looking for it,
Won't come your way,yeah
Well you'll never find it,
If your looking for it. (looking for it)
Should of done something, but I've done it enough.
By the way, your hands were shaking,
Rather waste some time with you.
And you never would have thought in the end,
How amazing it feels just to live again,
It's a feeling that you cannot miss,
It burns a hole, through everyone that feels it.
Well you're never gonna find it,
If you're looking for it, won't come your way, yeah
Well you'll never find it, if you're looking for it. (looking for it)
Should of done something, but I've done it enough.
By the way, your hands were shaking.
Rather waste some time with you.
Should of said something, but I've said it enough.
By the way, my words were faded.
Rather waste some time with you.
(Time with you... time with you time with you
Waste some time with you... waste some time with you)
Should of done something, but I've done it enough.
By the way, your hands were shaking.
Rather waste my time with you.
Should of said something, but I've said it enough.
Should of done something, but I've done it enough.
By the way, my hands were shaking.
Rather waste some time with you.
– "Blue and Yellow" The Used
Chapter One
Wasting Time with You
For once, I was going to let myself soak in misery. I lit a cigarette, closing my eyes to take a long drag. Usually, I would never sink to such habits. Apparently, a doctor at John Hopkins says it's bad for you. I crumpled the letter in my hand and tossed it over my hand. It landed in the smoking trash bin with the rest of them, burning to nothing. Just like him. I let my head hang off the edge of the mattress, eyes closed.
Another day in paradise. I turned my head to look out the window and groaned. I liked rain as much as the next person, but one sunny day a month was just not enough. Not after a year in Italy, years in North Carolina and a childhood in New Orleans. I loved the sun, and there wasn't near enough of it in England. But of course, the sun in Europe now came with flying artillery rounds, air tankers and the gray haze of smoke. But now, I would rather that than the endless cover of clouds. And thank God we were leaving soon. I was anyway, with the 326th Medical Company, following the 101st Airbourne across the channel in charge of every nurse in my company.
A knock at my door made me grumble. "What?"
"Your shift starts in ten." It was Clarisse. A girl from New York. She'd arrived a few weeks ago, having just graduated the Army Nursing School. And also my roommate. Apparently, she needed a mentor.
"Clarisse...this is your room to, you don't have to knock."
The door opened carefully. This girl was really getting on my nerves. She's not gonna make it in a warzone if she can't handle sharing a room with me. "Umm...sorry ma'am."
"Not a problem, Private." I took a drag from the cigarette. She eyed me curiously. "Anything interesting?"
"No, ma'am."
"Great," I groaned. "That means this is gonna be a very boring day." I stood up from the bed and poured my half drunk glass of water on the burning bucket fire. "Can you take that out for me?" I buttoned my shirt and slipped on my fatigue jacket. "Oh, and Clarisse...don't call me ma'am. Lieutenant, Gambit, Alice. Anything but ma'am."
It was a half mile walk to the hospital. It was still early, but the town was wide awake. That's what happens in a war. I greeted a few of the men that passed by me. Most of them in the 101st. The whole 101st had been here for weeks now, waiting for the order to drop into France. The pass the time, there has been training, drinking, poker games and shooting contests. But mostly poker. The CO's didn't want them to waste ammunition. But they did it anyway, when they could get away with it.
I hadn't been invited to shoot yet. But, why should it surprise me. I'm a woman. A woman that refuses to wear a female dress uniform and goes with male fatigues. I refuse to wear my hair in anything but a ponytail because I can't stand using a million bobby pins for something fancier. I didn't put on any makeup while on duty, unless it was a special occasion. I talked like any of the other boys, but then again, I'm part Cajun. What else can you expect? The only womanly thing I do the same as all the other nurses was nail polish. But when they go for red, pink and pastels, I settle only for black. It's black, or nothing at all.
That's why some of the Easy boys call me Gambit. It apparently has something to do with me being a rebel, even though that's not what a gambit is at all. But I wasn't gonna argue with them. I liked those boys, but so far, wouldn't let myself make friends. I already learned that it was never a good idea to make friends with men that may never come back. I was in Italy for almost a year before being transferred here four months back. They make it through D-Day, then we'll see. But not before then. I didn't want to lose anymore men that I considered brothers.
I put out my cigarette before walking in the front door of the hospital. I dug my stethoscope out of my pocket and looped it over my head. I nodded to my CO as I approached. Captain Jeremy Waters. He was a doctor from Chicago. Graduated from UCLA. He was a good doctor, but didn't like me too much. He ruled with conformity. And I did everything I could to go against it. So naturally, he did what he could to make my life hell. The worst shifts, the worst cleaning duties, made me mentor the newbies, and tried everything he could with his commanders to get me off the line up to move into France with the 101st. But they wouldn't have it. Even if I was a rebel that loved disobeying some of his ridiculous orders. I was the nurse with the most war zone experience. Even more than him, and he couldn't stand that.
I was expected to mentor this company when we cross the channel. To prepare them for what we will see. I did what I could. Taught some tricks here and there. Gave my advice on how to stay focused. There's nothing else I could do. They'll learn like I did. By being in the midst of it. War is hell, and they'll learn that too.
"Morning, Captain. Busy night?"
"Lieutenant. Maybe they should put you on the front lines, since you insist in dressing like them."
"Well sir, you have no idea how much I would prefer that," I walked behind the nursing station and wrote my name on the shift list. He signed a few forms on his clipboard before turning to walk away. "Oh, and sir," I called to him. He turned to listen. "I was wondering, what's your excuse?"
I didn't smile until he walked away. I even laughed. Evelyn, who was sitting to my right, slapped my arm. "He can court martial you for that, you know," she hissed.
"He can, but he won't. He's been ordered to take me to France, no matter what."
"That can change as soon as we get over there, Alice. You need to watch your mouth when that happens."
"The only reason I'm not the CO of this company is because I'm a woman. I have more war zone experience than anyone here. Face it," I walked over to wash my hands. "You need me," I pouted my lips. We laughed.
I scrubbed the dirt from my hands, hoping the tobacco smell would wash away as well. Waters would probably try to kick my ass if he saw me smoking. Just to annoy me. Will probably think it will reflect badly on the company. Men smoke. Not women. I chuckled. Not during a war. Here, packs of cigarettes were cash. I focused on my hands, washing away the soap.
I wiped my hands dry when my ring accidentally slipped off. I picked it up and went to slip it back on my finger, but stopped. It was the ring he gave me when I graduated Nursing School. I rubbed my thumb over the emerald. His family was from Ireland. He wanted to go back there to get married. But that wouldn't happen now.
I tucked the ring into my pocket and grabbed the first clipboard on the rack. Great. Influenza. He better not vomit on me. I wasn't in the mood today.
I grumbled, finishing up another chart. Well, the kid didn't throw up on me. He decided instead, to do it all over the floor. Which then of course, Captain Waters ordered me to do the clean up. Now I've seen worse than a pile of vomit, even back at home. But I was a First Lieutenant for Christ's sake, and a nurse. Not a janitor. I treat bullet wounds, lacerations, amputations, and even stitch. Which is usually a doctor's job, but I had to learn real fast in Italy when our last doctor was shot.
"Excuse me, nurse," a voice came in through the entrance.
I looked up from my chart. A soldier, by his uniform I could tell was a Private, was leading an officer by the arm. He was holding a blood stained towel to his face. "What can I do for you?"
"It's the Lieutenant, ma'am," he pointed to the officer.
"Let's take a look at that." I set my hands on his, easing the towel away from the left side of his face. There was a laceration across his left eye that was still slightly bleeding and already starting to bruise. "Ouch, that's a nice one." I set the towel back against the wound. "Go ahead and take a seat on one of the beds and I'll be with you in a minute."
"Thanks, ma'am."
"Evelyn, can you finish this up for me," I handed her the clipboard.
"Sure," she took it from my hands. "Haven't seen him around here before," she looked over my shoulder.
"Me either. Probably just transferred in."
"Not a bad face," she smiled. "After you get done with him."
I laughed and walked over to his bed. I put on some gloves and rolled a stool over beside him. "What's your name, Lieutenant?"
"Lynn Compton. Everyone calls me Buck." I gently pulled the towel away from his face.
"How'd this happen, Buck?"
"Tried to break up a fight. I guess I didn't try hard enough."
"This can't be from a stray punch. What did you get hit with?" I mixed saline and alcohol into a small bowl, drowning some 4 by 4 gauze pads into it.
"A chair leg, I think anyway."
"Ouch." I squeezed out some of the access. "This is probably gonna sting a little." I held one hand around the back of his neck, while the other began to clean the blood away from the wound. He flinched, but I held him fast.
"You're an officer," he remarked. His eyes were on my uniform.
"That I am. First Lieutenant Alice Castille." I smiled. "Nice to meet ya." He chuckled. "I haven't seen ya around here. Did you transfer in?"
"Yesterday."
"Well," I smiled, getting a clean batch of gauze from the bowl. "Welcome to the 101st."
Buck laughed. "Hell of a welcome present."
"What can I say?" He hissed as I glided the gauze over the open wound. "That's how we do things here in the Airbourne. What regiment you in?"
"506."
I smiled. "Looks like I'll be seeing a lot more of ya. My company will be following the 506 across the channel on D-Day."
"Your company?"
"Well..." I chuckled. "I guess it's not my company. Just the nursing unit. Captian Waters is CO of the company. It should be my company though."
"Why is that?"
"I have more war zone experience than anyone else here. I was in Italy for eight months."
Buck's eyes caught hers in surprise. "You've been out here since '42?"
"That's right."
"Shouldn't you be home by now?"
A thoughtful smile covered my face as I rolled over to the cabinet on my right. "Worried about me, Lieutenant?"
"No, I just...I guess I assumed you wouldn't be here unless you had to." Buck turned his head away from her. He probably thought he just insulted me.
"Don't worry, Buck. A lot of people tell me that." I grabbed the supplies I needed to stitch him up, and rolled back over. "You see, I'm crazy enough to like it over here."
"What?"
I laughed. "I love my job. That's why I volunteered after Pearl Harbor. That's also why I stayed."
"That's very...admirable of you."
I'm not sure why his choice of words set my off, but they did. "Admirable?" I shook my head, tossing the bloody gloves and putting on a clean pair. "You know what admirable gets you? Gets your friends killed, gets you transferred to a new unit under a CO you can't stand, gets you stuck in a country that never sees the damn sun, and...it gets you one of those letters that says there's no one at home waiting for you." I tossed the gauze in the trash, a little violently.
"Oh, there Lieutenant. Maybe we should give you a rifle, let you jump with us?"
Despite the rant I just gave him, I stifled a laugh. I've known for five minutes, and I already like him. "I'm sorry," I prepared a needle. "It's just one of those days."
"Yeah," he sighed. "I know about those." He stared at the needle in my hand. "Do I really need stitches?"
"A couple." He groaned. "Come on, big baby. It won't be that bad."
"Where are you from? The South?" he flinched as I injected the needle into the laceration over his brow.
"Sorry. Yeah. New Orleans."
"Yeah, you have a Cajun accent. Where did you go to school?"
"LSU," I said, preparing the needle.
"The Fighting Tigers?" he asked, incredulously.
I glanced at him. "Yeah."
Buck shook his head and pointed to himself. "UCLA."
I stopped completely, setting the needle and stitch down on the tray beside me. "UCLA?" He nodded. I smiled as a frown came to his face. We said it at the same time. "1940 Rose Bowl. 36 to 35." I started laughing. "Tigers pushed a two point conversion in the last minute to win it," I finished on my own. I clapped, not caring if half the room looked over at us.
"Here I never thought I had to be depressed about that ever again," Buck muttered.
"I was at that game," I managed to get out through my laughter. "Greatest football game of my life, I swear!"
"I was there too," he groaned.
"What?" I asked surprised. "Where'd you sit?"
"I didn't," Buck shook his head. "Number 46. Tailback."
My voice went silent in shock. For a moment, I wasn't in England. I was back in Pasadena, California. It was freezing that day. My father had always loved football. And me being a LSU give him just the right excuse to surprise me on Christmas with two tickets to the Rose Bowl, which our Tigers would be playing the UCLA Bruins. Even if I wasn't at that game, it would still be the greatest football game of my life. "No shit," I whispered. "Compton...I remember you. Yeah," I pointed at him. "You made that interception in the 4th quarter for the touchdown."
Buck's frown turned into half a smile. "Yeah, that was me."
I was laughing again. "My God, I thought it was over. That was an amazing catch. I couldn't believe you made it through our line for 60 yards. That was insane!" I wiped a few tears from my cheek. Maybe the day wasn't turning out so bad after all. "Jesus, my father would love to hear this."
Buck shook his head. "You know, I thought I was done crying over that game."
"Oh, I'm sorry, but come on...what are the odds." I started laughing again. "Really, I would never rub it in this bad...but this is great." I threw my head back to try and catch my breath, resting a hand on my stomach. My muscles were starting to burn.
"What is going on over here?" Captain Waters demanding, marching down the aisle toward us.
Usually I would come up with some sort of smart ass remark, but the truth was good enough this time. And it would still piss him off. "Hey, Captain. You wouldn't believe the odds. 1940 Rose Bowl, Lieutenant Compton here was the Bruins Tailback."
For the first time, his grudge against me seemed to be forgotten as he turned towards Buck. "Really?"
"Yes, sir."
"That was a well played game, Lieutenant," he held out his hand. Buck shook it awkwardly. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Alumni of '39."
"Pleasure is mine, Captain. Alumni of '43."
Waters inspected Buck's face. "That's a nasty cut there."
"She was just getting ready to stitch me up, sir," Buck motioned to me.
"Castille puts in some fine sutures. Carry on, Lieutenant," Waters nodded to me and trudged off to where he came from.
"What? What's wrong?" Buck took in my shocked face.
"Nothing, it's just..." I trailed off. I didn't know what the hell it was. Waters never walked away from me without an insult, a curse or careful hint to remind me who is in command. "He's never given me a real...compliment before." I shook my head, picking up my suture tools again. "I expected him to send me off to mop or something and finish the sutures himself."
"What?"
"I'm not really supposed to do sutures. I wasn't trained to in school. But, in Italy I didn't have a choice. Someone had to do it." I made the first stitch. "How you doing?"
"I'm good, can't feel a thing."
"So what did you major in?"
"Physical Education. A minor in Education. You?"
"I wanted to be a doctor, but they didn't accept me. So I had to settle for Nursing." I tied off the third stitch and inspected it closely, watching for any bleeding. "But, I wouldn't be here if I did. Guess I wasn't meant to be a doctor after all."
"But you were meant to be here?"
I folded a few 4 by 4 gauze pads in half and taped them over the stitches. "I think so. I'd rather help the guys over here than some whiny 8 year old with a stomach ache. I've made more of a difference over here than I ever could at home."
He smiled as I put a band aid over the scratch below his eye. "That's why you're an officer."
I smirked. "Maybe." Our eyes stayed with each other for a moment, before I glanced away, tossing the dirty gloves into the trash. "You should heal up fine. Drop by tomorrow sometime and let me look at it. Make sure it doesn't get infected."
"Yes, ma'am."
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Lynn Compton," I held out my hand.
"Same here, Alice Castille." We shook hands with a pair of grins. "I'll see you around."
"I hope so."
So...any amazing football fans would know that UCLA and LSU are actually not the teams that played in the 1940 Rose Bowl. I only changed it for sake of this story. Lynn Compton did play football and baseball for UCLA, and in fact did play in a Rose Bowl game with UCLA in 1943. I'm not sure what position though, so I made it up.