Title: From Above
Rating: T for now. Who knows?
Disclaimer: As much as I wish it, not mine.
Author: mandapants aka Amanda
Genre: romance/drama/action/ish
Note: This is my first BoB fiction. I've loved the series for long enough, I decided to write a little something about it. This story just kind of came to me, I truly hope you enjoy it. Comments would be much appreciated! Happy reading!
The snow had fallen heavily that night, blanketing the rough terrain in a soft layer of white powder, hiding from human eye the red stains that poisoned the ground. All was still in Bastonge that morning, in the forests where on either side of a small clearing in the woods, opposing sides of the biggest war in history hid in small holes in the ground, praying that their personal ditch would be enough to protect them throughout each barrage of artillery fire.
It was a nerve-racking experience, being on the front lines; knowing that at any moment a shell could come crashing down upon your makeshift shelter, blowing you, your training, and your standard size nine boots to hell. Luckily though, for the men of Easy Company, the snowfall the night before had brought with it a calm and peace upon the battlefront as the sun rose. There was an eerie silence about the battlefield. Usually the faint sounds of shuffling troops and the reloading of guns could be heard, but on this morning: nothing.
Pulling out his last pack of cigarettes, Joe Toye placed one in his mouth, lit it, and inhaled the smoke. He gazed out at the line, at the snow that covered up the blood and bodies of his companions, and his enemies. He and Bill Guarnere, who was now snoring lightly to his left, had been on the line all night. Toye, who had lost to Wild Bill in a definitive game of 'rock, paper, scissors,' was stuck staying awake the entire time to watch the line, the line which had not so much as stirred in the slightest since it had started snowing heavily around 0100. He was tired and anxious to get off the line, and thusly, he was in dire need of a cigarette.
Only moments after having lit up, his buddy Bill awoke beside him. He briefly looked around, at the line which had not moved, and then looked to Toye who was sitting innocently, cigarette in his mouth. "Now I know you was gonna wake me up and offer me one of those smokes, eh pal?" He asked Toye, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out the pack of cigarettes despite the complaints that immediately erupted.
Swiftly, Bill gave Joe and smack in the back of his helmet in a friendly but stern way, "watch the line, chump," he ordered, lighting up the last of Toye's cigarettes and discarding the case by throwing it up and out of the foxhole. Bill inhaled, looked towards the sky, and exhaled, looking towards the sun with his brow furrowed. "Got the time Toye? Looks like we should be outta here pretty soon."
Instinctively, Bill looked towards the line, readying his gun as Joe relaxed his own, rolling up his sleeve to look at his watch. "Yep, it's almost 0700 now, they've gotta be sending someone out here. I'm so sick of sitting in this hell hole, I swear, my ass is numb. Why the fuck does it always seem colder on the line?" Bill chuckled, muttered a "no idea," under his breath and motioned for Toye to stay relaxed, he could handle the line.
They sat like that for many minutes, smoking, Bill watching the line, Joe relaxing. Joe, who hadn't slept at all during the night took the opportunity the lean his had back against the dirt and close his eyes. It was just as he was drifting to sleep that he heard a rustling behind their foxhole. Pulling out his pistol he whipped around quickly, zeroing in on the disturbance. He didn't actually expect to see the enemy advancing from the rear, but tough training was a hard thing to shake. He smiled upon IDing the person advancing on them and lowered his gun. "Christ Doc, tell me you're here to relieve us," spoke Toye as Doc crawled in the snow towards them, eyes fixed on the line in order to know if he had been spotted.
"Sorry Joe," he said as he reached the foxhole, looking down at the two men. "I've got some bad news from HQ," he hesitated, looking and the once hopeful faces of both Joe and Bill, who had given up watching the line to hear the news. He took a deep breath and continued, "the krauts took advantage of the storm last night and marched right through the left and right flanks and took Bastogne. We've got only a few square miles left of allie occupied territory, and that's us. They've got Easy surrounded." He inhaled deeply and looked towards the line, scowl on his face. "In the words of Captain Nixon this morning when he found out 'we are royally fucked.'"
Doc Roe looked to the empty cigarette case that was sitting just a little to his right. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a new pack, flicking it into the foxhole with the two men. "Here, I don't need 'em. You guys are going to be out here for a while longer. We got a lot of casualties stranded in our radius and no where to put them. We're short men and the line has become a goddamn circle, we've got a hell of a lot more ground to watch. Orders from Winters, stay here, watch the-"
Doc stopped speaking mid sentence as all three mens' attention was directed towards the sky as the first genuine noise of the morning erupted across the clear blue. German artillery immediately opened fire as three supply planes flew over, haphazardly trying to drop supplies to their surrounded troops. Roe rolled into the foxhole in a split second. Supply boxes landed everywhere, everywhere it seems but in the allied territory. "Fuck, do they even train those shitheads?" Bill growled in a loud whisper as a box of what looked like medical supplies fell right into the German lines.
The three men instinctively flinched as a crashed echoed across the sky; one of the planes was hit. Its tail end was burning, streaking flames across the sky as it began to nose dive. It landed with a cacophonous boom just behind the tree line and out of sight. "Fuck," Toye added, letting the gravity of the situation hit him. Round two of the planes was even worse. Only two were left and as they flew over once more, desperately trying to drop supplies, some of which actually made it into Easy's radius this time. By the end of that run only one plane was left.
As the sound of the propellers finally faded into the air Roe looked to the two men on either side of them, "you know what they got when they captured Bastogne?" Both Bill and Toye looked at him with inquiry, neither sure of the answer. Roe took the time to examine each man before looking solemnly out at the line, "reinforcements. They're going to blow us away." With that realization the two other men looked towards the place where heavy artillery fire had been coming not moments before; Roe was right.
It was to all of their surprises when the faint sound of propellers could once again be heard over the horizon, the third plane was coming back. Surely it was returning only out of desperate orders, no pilot in his right mind would return to the site where two of his fellow planes had been shot down within minutes. Nevertheless, the plane returned and began a third drop. The three men looked at the sky transfixed. There was nothing they could do from where they were so they watched in amazement as the plane returned, obviously damaged from the previous attempts. They each had a personal investment in its success, it would be a small triumph over the enemy if just one plane made it. They were silently rooting for its success, just as every other man of Easy Company at that moment.
Their faces fell however as the plane was struck with a fatal blow, left engine igniting in flames just as it was passing back over the line watched by Guarnere, Toye, and Roe. The plane boomed as it burst in half, completely engulfed in flames. The men watched in horror as one of the crew bailed out, only to be attacked by machine gun fire from the Germans. The plane had been moving far too fast and far too low for a parachute to be effective. Roe flinched as one of the kraut bullets struck the trooper, sending a splatter of blood to the ground, staining the pristine whiteness.
Only seconds after bailing out the sure-to-be-dead trooper hit the ground with a thud, motionless. He was laying straight in front of the three allied men in their foxholes, halfway between them and the krauts. Thus the line had been drawn. If they thought they'd experienced war before, they were in for a shock. It was only beginning.