Part 1

Author's note: Hey guys! So after long several months, I am back! I really hope this story lives up to everyone's expectations. It took some time to figure out what direction I wanted to go and then to write it all down. So once again, I hope you all enjoy it and let me know what you guys think; I am always open for constructive criticism, and your reviews always make my day. Like We Lucky Few, I will try to update every Friday but I am currently working two casual jobs and the one I am on-call pretty much every day, so I never really know when I'm working, and I won't be able to update at work, so the weekly update is more of a guideline, but fingers crossed. Once again, this series if based off the actors' portrayals of the characters, so NO DISRESPECT INTENDED! Also, because this is a fanfiction, I have changed some of the character's storylines and their lives after the war. Alright, that's all I can think of and you guys have waited long enough. Thanks guys and enjoy. Happy Canada Day #150!

"If I could be with you tonight. I would sing you to sleep; never let them take the light behind your eyes. I failed and lost this fight. Never fade in the dark. Just remember, you will always burn as bright"- The Light Behind Your Eyes by My Chemical Romance.

Griest looked around, surveying the barren, frozen wasteland. The snow fell from the heavens as thick, grey clouds covered the sky, leaving her alone in the forest. The splintered remains of trees stood surrounding her, while the fractured, wooden shards laid all around her. She was aware of a dull THUD that left her feeling shaky and unsteady, but it sounded as if she were wearing earmuffs that muffled the sound. Her heart pounded loudly as she breathed deeply; that noise was important and meaningful, but she couldn't remember what it was. She looked down at her fatigues, which were covered in splinters, dirt, mud, and blood. Her hands were a waxy colour and shook like the earth.

"Griest! Chucky! Chucky, c'mon!"

"Skip?" She breathed looking up at the voice. "Penkala? But you're dead." Her friends were waiting in their foxhole with bright, red noses and pale skin. They waved at her frantically as Griest made a face; she had watched them die. There was nothing left of them but a smoldering boot.

"Hey, kid, it's cold tonight; why don't you spend the night with us?" She remembered how Skip's eyes sparkled as he flicked away his cigarette butt. Griest had declined and, by doing so, escaped their terrible fate. She grew cold as she froze repeating their names, "Skip? Penkala? Alex? Warren?"

BOOM! The earth shook as the dull thudding sound became as clear as crystal. She flinched and dropped to the ground, covering her head as her helmet dropped to the forest floor several feet away. They were artillery rounds, and they were coming to kill her.

"Chucky! Move!" The pair shouted as Griest began crawling forward, ignoring the cold snow that burned her fingers like fire. She stared at the ground as the heat from the rounds grew closer and the ground shook with more ferocity, like the sound of a roaring lion. She finally reached the foxhole and reached out to her friends, but it wasn't her friends anymore.

"Help me," the being pleaded as Griest released a shriek and jumped back. The being grabbed her arm and held on tightly. It was wearing an American paratrooper uniform but it was missing an arm. Griest pulled back but it held fast and pleaded for help. She finally yanked her hand free and fell backwards into the snow.

"If only you were faster." A little girl said sadly. She had long strawberry blonde hair that hung loosely by her waist and deep blue eyes. She was wearing a deep red dress and held a haunting doll in her hands. Griest looked to her forearm where the words were tattooed onto her skin: A-7731.

"I tried," Griest muttered as she pushed herself away from the girl. Tears rolled down her cheeks, freezing to her skin in the frigid air. "I went as fast as I could!"

"Well, it wasn't fast enough," a new voice rasped as Griest looked beside the girl. It was Major Dick Winters, but not the Winters she knew. The Winters she knew was strong, caring, dependable, and solid. This one was pale with sunken cheekbones and a partially decayed face. The fatigues he wore hung off his body as maggots and earthworms crawled through his hair and clothes. Behind Winters, stood Easy Company, her family, her home even after all those years. They all resembled Winters with partially decayed body parts as the stench of death clung to them, making her gag. Griest looked at Roe as she released a strangled cry. His hair was matted and dull patches while the left side of his face was a mere skull. His eyes shone blue, as if pleading with her.

"You could have saved us," Luz pressed as he reached forward stroking her cheek with a skeleton finger.

"No, I- I- I just talked with you," Griest shouted as her men, Skip, Penkala, the girl, and the paratrooper advanced on her, surrounding her. Trapping her, "you were fine! You guys survived."

"Henri," Penkala hissed as he grabbed her arm. Griest buried her head in her hands as sobs shook her body; they survived the war, they were supposed to be okay.

"Henri. Henri. HENRI!"

"Whoa," a familiar voice chuckled as Griest forced her eyes open and jumped back. Her vision cleared as she looked around; Penkala, Skip, Aaliyah were gone along with Easy Company. The ghosts had left her for the moment. She looked to her left where a pretty brunette watched her with narrowed, almond coloured eyes, which were framed behind glasses. The girl's hands were raised, showing her empty palms as she leaned back. Griest recognized her as Carol, her colleague, and associate.

"Are you okay? You were yelling and fighting in your sleep; you looked to be dreaming," Carol added as Griest breathed deeply to regain control of her racing heart. She looked around and saw she was sitting in the backseat of a car. The buildings whizzed past her as Griest looked back at Carol.

"I'm fine," she huffed as she sat up straight and brushed the wrinkles out of her grade A uniform in a stiff, non-committed motion. Her face felt hot as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"You sure?" Carol leaned forward. "You were screaming and kept saying you weren't fast enough. You also kept shouting, 'Penkala', 'Skip', and 'Aaliyah'. What are those things?"

Griest froze slightly as her teeth clenched together and she breathed in deeply. Her eyes flickered grey as the vehicle rolled to a stop. Griest gripped the door handle tightly as her stomach whirled and flopped in her abdomen. Her fingers burned as if she were still crawling through the snow. Then, in a soft yet harsh voice, she answered, "They are ghosts."

She kicked the door open and stepped out as she placed her side cap on her head and adjusted it. Carol joined her as the pair made their way up the tall, stone steps into the large, imposing building.

"Are you ready?" Carol breathed as her eyes skimmed through a notebook, studying the pages and the cursive writing it contained. Griest nodded but knew the brunette wouldn't even see. "Don't forget this may be our last, and best chance; if we get this, we can push the organization ahead decades! They can't possibly deny a woman's application or education because of her gender if this works! Just stick to the facts, and don't back down."

They paused at a set of huge, oak doors ignoring the looks the men were flashing them. Griest smoothed out her olive drabs once again as she stood tall; it had been almost four years since she last adorned her uniform. It had been a different world back then.

Carol sighed and pulled on her lavender colour blouse as she pushed her glasses higher onto the bridge of her nose. "I don't need to tell you how important this is, Henri. I don't know what the next plan is if this doesn't work. I'm depending on you. We all are."

"Don't worry," Griest breathed silencing the flutters in her stomach, "I know what's at stake." Carol nodded as Griest pushed the door open and strode in with pride and purpose.

"Alright, we are here to discuss an enrollment issue with umm..." A bald man began as he looked down on the two women with a bored look on his face. He slouched in his seat and yawned every few words as he ran his fingers through his thick, white hair.

"Carol Miller," Carol stated trying to sound as strong and daunting as she could, but her voice resembled that of a mouse. Griest breathed in deeply as what felt like a golf ball settled in the back of her throat.

His name had been Miller, and you didn't even know that until after he died. Carol cleared her throat gently as Griest looked up at the annoyed faces.

"Right... Now, what's the issue here?" He drawled as he looked at his watch.

"Well, sir," Carol began as she skimmed through her notebook again. "I am here on behalf of-" She paused as the man held up a hand and whispered in the other man's ear. The other man, a bigger man with salt and pepper hair, chuckled as he shrugged. The white haired man yawned again before he nodded at Carol.

Carol glanced at Griest then continued, but her voice was shakier and lacked any conviction, "I am here on behalf of the women of the fine state of New York. Many women are losing the jobs they once held and are no longer allowed into post-secondary education after the war, or they must do so at another campus. Women make up approximately 50% of the population, but make significantly less than her male counterparts. We are denied certain occupations despite our education, skills, and-"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Miss... Milliger, right?"

"It's Miller, actually," Carol muttered softly but the white haired man just stared at her.

"Uh huh, Miss Miller, women do not need an education or jobs. Since the end of the Second War, the men have returned and need the enrollment places and jobs that the women once held. I appreciate what you gals did, but you are no longer needed. If you need money, marry someone and give birth to lots of sons. Your husbands can take care of you," he sighed as if that closed the issue, but Carol pushed.

"But, sir, what if women don't want to get married? Women have proven themselves more than capable of doing a man's job. And post-secondary institutions should choose their students based on their academic achievements, not on gender."

"Are you saying the boys who went to war for you don't deserve an education or a job after everything they went through?" The salt and pepper man huffed as he sat forward in his chair. His bloated face turned red as a vein popped from his face. Griest glanced at Carol as she formed a tight fist behind her back; they were losing control.

"You course not! I'm just saying that women should be given the same opportunities and treatment as men do-"

"It sounds like you don't care about our war heroes. I'll let you know, missy, many of our boys died over there or came back without arms or legs! I didn't see any of you girls over there getting dirty with the rest of them."

"Excuse me, sir, that's not correct," Griest began gently as she stepped forward. "Private Griest from Easy Company, second battalion of the 506th PIR of the 101st Airborne; I fought in the war, and, as you put it, 'got dirty with the rest of them'. My esteemed colleague has a record of my military transcripts." Griest nodded at Carol as the women placed the file in front of each of the men. "As you can see, I am a D-Day veteran; I have fought in the Brecourt Manor and the taking of Carentan; I fought in Operation Market Garden and received the Purple Heart for a gunshot wound. I was in the Battle of the Bulge and became a part of the Allied occupation force after V-E- Day.

"You can see, I was the only female allowed in a combat role to determine whether a female can successfully be integrated, trained, and fight in a combat role. I am still here today and managed to kill a lot of Germans, so I'll say I was successful. Sir, after the war, I attended school with the intention of regaining my purpose after the war. I was successfully enrolled but had to attend classes at another campus, like all the other females. Our teachers were sloppy, our equipment was lacking, and our resources were nowhere near what they should have been. During my time, I applied with the New York Police Department with the objective of becoming a police officer to put my combat skills to use, and to further serve my country. I was denied based solely on my gender; they never accounted for my skills, my strengths, nor my past. As a woman, and a veteran, I say it is a disgrace to be told my only place in life is to marry some guy and give birth to his children. I served my country and bled for her, and I have seen what women can do. We need equal access to education, jobs, and wages, no matter our gender."

"Private Griest," the white-haired man began, "frankly, women just can't handle the responsibility or make the right decisions to be given those opportunities."

"Well, your mother made the decision to have you, so far that's the only questioning decision a female has made." She smiled up at them as she fought to keep her anger back, a battle she was losing more often. She was a warrior, a soldier who fought alongside men and was treated like one of them. Her superiors gave her no extra treatment and held her to the men's standards, and she thrived. When she came back home, she expected to be treated the same; she expected people to respect her service, honour her sacrifices, and treat her as a veteran should. Instead, people laughed at her, called her a liar when she said she was a vet; she was shipped off to some shitty school, and denied her dream job. It was an embarrassment and slap to the face; she'd prefer to land on another building.

"Henri!" Carol breathed throwing her a heated look as the two men inhaled sharply. Griest continued her sweet smile, savoring the wounded look on their faces.

"You say you were an accomplished soldier," the white-haired men hissed as his shoulders jumped to his neck, "but how can we believe you? You could be lying about all of it."

"I was hoping you would ask that," Griest nodded at Carol who placed another folder in front of the committee. "In there you will find letters from my unit, Easy Company. Some of these letters are from my commanding officer, Major Dick Winters, some of the commissioned officers such as Captain Speirs, Lieutenant Compton, Lieutenant Lipton, and Lieutenant Welsh, some are from the sergeants and NCOs, such as Staff Sergeant Guarnere, Sergeant Malarkey, and Sergeant Luz. There, they have detailed how I was as a soldier, how I was in combat, and whether or not I was deemed successful."

"It was a good thing you asked for those letters," Carol whispered to Griest as the men read over the various letters. Griest nodded; her friends had been more than willing to help her. Nixon managed to pull a few strings to allow the women to talk with the committee instead of some lower leveled figurehead.

"So? What are these supposed to do? Nobody will believe you were an actual soldier; people probably think you stole that uniform," the salt and pepper man chuckled but his one eyes were twitching. Griest smiled and pushed further; he was nervous.

"True, they are less inclined to believe me; however, those are not the only copies of the letters we received. We want to you raise women's wages, begin to work on co-ed post-secondary institutions, and equal occupations, or we will release these letters to the newspapers. The people won't believe me, but they will believe the Battered Bastards of Bastogne."

"Are you threatening us?" The salt and pepper haired man seethed as Griest met his stormy eyes.

"No, sir, I am promising you. We in the airborne don't make threats we won't fulfill." She watched the two men, expecting to see fear, frustration, and anger in their eyes, but the white-haired man was smiling as his eyes danced. The look reminded her of Sobel before he sent them on the dreaded Currahee run after eating spaghetti. Griest focused on him as her heart began to pound, it always did just before a hard battle. Something was wrong; he should have been pissed. Griest looked over at Carol who was grinning happily; she didn't understand.

"I would like to introduce General Taylor and Colonel Sink from the former 101st Airborne Division," the white-haired man announced with a cocky smile. Griest followed his gaze where Sink and Taylor stepped through the huge, heavy doors. The years had been kind to them; they hadn't aged a day since the war.

Griest never really cared for Taylor; she had lost a lot of respect for the man when she learned he was eating Christmas turkey at home, while Easy Company was eating weak, cold, bean soup on Christmas Eve as they froze their asses off. But, she respected Sink; although he never agreed a female should be in combat, he treated her the same and gave her equal opportunities as everyone else. He supported Easy and helped them out as often as he could. He was a good man.

"Morning, Chucky," Sink drawled as he stood in front of her. Taylor joined the two manned committee and began whispering in their ears as the men chuckled.

"Good morning, sir." She nodded and saluted him. Sink chuckled with a shake of his head.

"You finished one war, so you came home to fight another, eh?"

"Something like that, sir." They both smiled as Griest felt something inside of her glow, something she hadn't felt since coming home. It was warm and familiar and made her think of Luz's loud snores, Perconte's constant brushing, Winters' kind face, Lipton's smile, and Roe's blue eyes. For the first time in three long years, she wasn't cold or alone. She hadn't been called "Chucky" since Winters told her to go home and make something of herself; she hadn't done that yet.

"You hear what they did to Easy?" He asked as Griest looked up from the floor with a tight scowl. Only a few months after Easy returned home, the army disbanded the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment. Griest was mad when she heard of Easy's retirement; she was no longer in the army so it had no impact on her life, but Easy had been her home for almost four years, including training. It was a feeling, an emotion that lived through her and bonded her together with her men; it was her home and she missed it.

"Those bastards," she growled causing the colonel to laugh as he nodded his head.

"Well, we better get this started; you're a good kid, Chucky, and a fine good soldier no matter what." He shook her hand before joining Taylor at the head of the committee, but the words left her feeling hollow as she gnawed on her lip. They only complimented you before destroying you.

"Private Griest, good to see you again," General Taylor began as he looked up from a sheet of paper.

"Good to see you again too, sir," she responded in a guarded voice as she glanced at Sink anxiously. She hated this part; the waiting and pleasantries before a fight.

"So, you will go public with your military background unless you get what you want?" Taylor asked looking up as Griest formed a tight fist.

"Sir, I am doing this on behalf of all American women; I am doing this for your mothers, sisters, and daughters. I fought for the freedom of the American people in Europe, and now I'm fighting for the freedom of women," she corrected as her voice grew huskier and sharper.

"You are aware you were part of a military experiment, correct?" Taylor continued ignoring her changing tone. Griest fought the urge to look back at Carol as her throat pinched together.

"Yes, sir."

"And by coming forward with this experiment, you are revealing military secrets to our enemies."

"What military secrets?" She hissed. "I killed Krauts; they know I exist, and so do the Russians; I fought beside them too. You think they care that you have a girl in combat boots? You think that's news to them?"

"I'd watch your tone of voice, Private, you are still addressing a higher ranking officer," the salt and pepper man hissed as sly grin covered his face. Griest wanted nothing more than to slap that expression off his fat lips but controlled herself; getting into a fistfight with the committee would only harm her cause.

"If you were to reveal those secrets, you would be tried and conviction of treason against the United States and sent to prison," Taylor finished as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and glanced at Sink.

"So, let me get this straight," Griest's shoulders slouched as she placed all her weight on one leg and crossed her arms, "you were fine with me fighting over there, killing Germans, but you'd arrest and imprison me for fighting for American women? That's fucking bullshit."

"Watch your mouth in this committee!" The white haired man shouted but Griest never gave him a sideways glance, he wasn't worth her time. Taylor's face remained stone while the corner of Sink's lips turned upwards slightly. Griest looked back at Carol as she tapped her fingers against the side of her leg.

"Then sign me up; you're going to put me in a warm building where I get three meals a day, shelter, and a bed? Hell, that's better than Bastogne. Lots of people have been arrested for their beliefs, so be it." She smiled up at them daring them to make her words a reality; she knew they would do it. Sink and Taylor were paratroopers; they never made a threat they wouldn't fulfill. Sink's face fell as he shook his head.

"Ya don't understan', Chucky. You and whoever supports you will be convicted of treason," Sink muttered with authority, but he ground his teeth together and shook his head. "I'm sorry, kid, but those are the regulations."

"Major Dick Winters, Captain Nixon, Captain Speirs, Lieutenant Compton, Lieutenant Welsh, Lieutenant Lipton, Staff Sergeant Guarnere, Sergeant Malarkey, Sergeant Luz, should I continue?" The white-haired man grinned as he slowly flipped through the letters letting them fall to the ground.

Griest froze as all the air left her lungs. It felt as if the world was spinning as she placed a hand on the desk and gripped it tightly. The man continued on as Carol protested loudly, but their voices faded into the background.

D-Day flashed through her mind as she remembered how scared, frantic, and terrified they all were. She could smell the sweat, blood, explosives, and sea water in the air as her hands began to shake and her vision blurred between past and present. She recalled Skip looking at her, promising he was going to get a good job and marry his girl once he got home. They all made vows to the Heavens about their future if they survived, and they pursued those dreams, well, those who were still there. Most of the guys now had good, respectable jobs, and a lot of them were married. Martin, for example, had a home construction business that was really taking off.

They agreed to that war, she thought feeling the cold Bastogne winds, they fought and did their time; they didn't agree to fight this one. They're done fighting. I won't make them do it. She knew they would support her if she asked, but she wouldn't. She wasn't about to drag them back into another war. She couldn't.

"We'll back off," Griest announced, interrupting Carol and the white haired man, who were in a heated discussion. Everyone looked to Griest with different expressions: the two committee members were pleased, Taylor looked unconcerned, Sink looked uncomfortable, and Carol looked defeated and mad. "We won't release those reports."

"Good, good," the salt and pepper man beamed, "but if we find anything, we'll have you and your friends locked up."

"That's enough, Mr. Thomas," Sink hissed as his eyes smoldered, "Chucky's a paratrooper; she will hold to the agreement." Griest nodded at Sink as they adjourned the meeting. The committee members and Taylor left immediately as Sink rejoined Griest once again.

"Remember Holland; when the east didn't work, we went to the west. And, if that didn't work, we went south, then north. Keep pushing," he encouraged. Griest nodded as the colonel followed Taylor, leaving the two females alone. Griest hesitantly met Carol's eyes and crossed her arms.

"We'll get it, just not that way. Those men, they've been through enough and I won't pull them back into a fight." Her voice was hard like iron and as unforgiving as the Bastogne wilderness. Carol's eyes were downcast as her shoulders rounded in defeat; she looked to have aged two years just by standing there.

"I know," she said with a small smile before her thick lips formed a frown, "I get it. C'mon, let's get out of here and tell the others."

"I am left with basically nothing. Too trapped in war to be at peace, too damaged to be at war"- Army veteran, Daniel Somers

Author's note (again): so that's chapter 1! Let me know what you guys think. Women's rights had come a long way in the 1950s but were no were near what they are today. Many women lost their jobs to the returning soldiers and those who did work were subject to discrimination, unequal pay, and unequal opportunities. They were also not allowed to own property and pressured to stay at home, give birth to children, and raise those children. Their access to education was limited but getting better. On November 30, 1945, the 506th PIR (Easy Company) was disbanded, then the was reorganized for the Korean War under the designation of the 506th Infantry Regiment. So some of this might not totally be accurate, and I might have exaggerated some stuff, but I needed to make it work for the story. Yeah. Thanks for reading and let me know what you guys think. Thanks!