8
Title: "Ask and You Shall Receive"
Author: Darkover
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I do not own "Band of Brothers," the miniseries. Nor do I own the men upon whom the miniseries is based, as they were and are real people. I have great respect for them, and for all combat veterans of World War II. No disrespect is intended, and I very much hope none is taken. This is a work of fiction, and I am not making any money off of it, so please do not sue.
Characters: Babe Heffron, Doc Roe, OC. No slash.
Summary: At Bastogne, Pvt. Babe Heffron and Doc Roe get some help from an unusual source. One shot.
~oo0oo~
It was snowing, and Pvt. Edward "Babe" Heffron was trying not to panic.
It wasn't that there was anything unusual about snow. At Bastogne, it would have been unusual if it were not snowing. Babe had heard a rumor that Europe was experiencing the worst winter in a century, and he definitely believed it. He was cold, and had been for so long that he hardly remembered what it was like to be warm. He knew that Doc Roe, who was struggling along through the drifts just behind him, felt the same way. Babe Heffron was badly worried because they were lost.
He and Ralph Spina, Easy Company's other medic, had previously made a trip into town to scrounge up some desperately-needed medical supplies. That trip had been at least somewhat successful, so Doc Roe had been willing to try another trip today. As Roe was a medic, and therefore weaponless, Sgt. Martin ordered Heffron to accompany Roe.
That would have been fine, if another snowstorm of blizzard proportions had not arisen. Normally both the Easy Company men were possessed of good senses of direction, but Babe found himself totally at a loss. The cold was horrific, the snow blinding. The enemy might be a couple of kilometers away, or they might be no more than a few feet. He truly couldn't see well enough to tell. The shrieking wind obliterated almost all sound, and the snow eradicated their boot prints, so there wasn't even any way of telling what direction they had come from. If they did not find some shelter soon, even the meager shelter of their foxholes, they would freeze to death. But if they kept blundering around through the snow, sooner or later they would stumble into some Germans. It was death to remain still, and death to keep moving.
Babe raised his voice to be heard over the howling wind. "Ya got any ideas, Doc?"
Roe said something, but it was in French. Irritated, Babe looked over his shoulder. "Doc, you know I don't speak Frog—"
"I was talkin' to the Sister," Roe answered. "She says she can help."
"Huh?" Babe started to turn, and did a double take at the sight of the nun before him. She was tall, nearly as tall as he, and in spite of the intense cold she wore no coat or cape. Of course, she was in full habit, and those things weren't exactly lightweight.
"Sister? Wha—?"
"You are lost, young man," the nun said. It was not a question. "Follow me, and I will show you the way back to your company." She turned and started walking. Babe, good Catholic that he was, and a product of parochial schools that had conditioned him to obey nuns without question, slogged after her.
Roe, from just behind him, called out something, again in French. "Whadja say, Doc?" Babe demanded.
"I asked the Sister if she knew where she was goin'."
Babe, even with his eyes squinted against the freezing wind, had no trouble seeing the dark habit of the nun ahead of him in the snow. "She seems ta."
"But how could she? She—" Roe slipped and would have gone down if Babe had not grabbed his arm. "How could she know where our Company HQ is?"
"Ya got any better ideas, Doc? Like wanderin' around on our own until the krauts find us?"
"No," Roe admitted. "But I don't want the Sister walkin' into a group of krauts, either."
Babe had not considered that. Raising his voice as much as he dared, he called out; "Are you sure about your direction, Sister?"
The nun, continuing her steady advance through the snow, did not answer, nor did she give any sign that she had heard. Babe tried again. "Is it much further, Sister?"
The nun still did not pause or turn, so Babe shrugged, assuming she could not hear him. He did not want to call out any more loudly, for fear of alerting the Germans to their presence. He and Roe continued to follow her, the black habit clearly visible even through the heavily-falling flakes.
After an unknown length of time, they heard a sentry's challenge—in English. Babe and Roe both answered joyfully, picking up their pace.
"Don't shoot the Sister!" Roe called out.
A figure carrying a rifle lumbered out of the snow towards them. "Damn, we were getting worried about you guys," said Pvt. Al Vittore, the Easy Co. soldier with whom Babe normally shared a foxhole.
"Nah, the krauts don't like us that much," Babe answered, grinning.
Sgt. Johnny Martin came forward. "Any luck getting supplies?" he asked tersely.
"No, Sergeant," Roe said. "We didn't even make it into Bastogne before the snowstorm started."
Martin grunted. "Figured as much."
"Yeah, you two never could find your own butts with both hands," Vittore teased.
"We wouldn't have made it back, if it hadn't been for the Sister," Babe said. "She showed us the way. Where'd she go, Sarge? I wanna thank her."
Martin stared at Babe. "Heffron, whaddaya mean, you wouldn't have made it back if it weren't for your sister? What the hell are you talking about?"
"Not *his* sister," Roe said. "A Sister. A nun. We met a nun, and she showed us the way back here. Good thing, too."
"Roe, don't you start going snow-happy on me," Martin snapped. "You two came in alone."
"But Sarge—" Babe began. Martin cut him off.
"I don't have time for this, Heffron. Get back to your foxhole. You too, Doc. Keep watchin' the line. You know the drill."
"Yes, Sergeant," both men answered, and did as they were told. Heffron was puzzled, and a bit worried about the nun, but he reasoned that if she knew her way to Easy Co.'s front lines, she must know the way back to her convent or wherever she was residing. Now that he was back, there were other things to worry about.
~oo0oo~
Nevertheless, Babe Heffron did not forget, and when the siege of Bastogne was finally broken and Easy Company was relieved at last, he gathered some foodstuffs to take as a gift, and paid a visit to the nearest parish priest. Babe assumed that the clergyman would be the best source of information concerning a nun who presumably was somewhere nearby and who spoke English with an American accent—although the Cajun-born Roe had insisted she spoke to him only in French. Babe explained to the priest what had transpired that snowy day, and then asked where he might find the nun, so that he could thank her.
The priest spoke English—although not with an American accent—but he seemed confused by Babe's account. Babe repeated the story and his request again, but the priest just shook his head. "You must be mistaken, young man."
"Father, I'm tellin' ya the truth," Babe insisted. "My friend Doc Roe and I probably wouldn't be here now without the help of that Sister. I'd really like to find her, so I can thank her."
"My son, there are no nuns around here," the priest told him. "They all left when the Germans came."
Babe was stunned. Finally he said; "You're sure, Father?"
"I am sure," the priest said kindly, smiling faintly.
"Thanks anyway, Father." Babe Heffron left, feeling a bit dazed. Sometimes things happened in war that could not easily be explained.
~oo0oo~
Author's Note: For any fans who might berate me for writing an ambiguous ending: let me point out that this story is based on an incident that was supposed to be true. During a televised interview, a combat veteran of World War II recounted the story of how he and his men were lost until they encountered a nun, who led them back to their own lines and then departed without trace. Like Babe, this man then looked up the local parish priest to ask about the nun, only to be given the same answer as I had the priest give to Babe in this story. The man to whom this incident allegedly happened was not inclined to believe in a supernatural explanation, but he offered it as an example of how things can happen in war that cannot always be explained. The veteran was not a member of Easy Company, but this is a work of fiction, and I thought it made a good story for Christmas. I hope you all agree!