Message from the Author: Hello readers, just a quick informative update. I will be rewriting the first chapter, and with that altering a few key aspects of the story; stay tuned for future updates as well.

If this story does not receive much feedback, it will be discontinued.

Thanks. Remember to review.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of either of these creations. This is purely fictional. I mean no disrespect to the legitimate members of Easy Company.

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"The world is on my side

I have no reason to run

So will someone come and carry me home tonight.

The angels never arrived

but I can hear the choir

so will someone come and carry me home."

-We Are Young -Fun.

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Lieutenant Richard Winters leapt from the open door and into the night. Ripcord separated from the stick and his chute was liberated from the bond of its pack. The opening jerk was tremendous, causing his leg bag to instantaneously come loose and fall from his leg, hurtling downwards and colliding with-

What in all hell…

There, shooting upwards into the night sky, was a massive castle built of grey stone. It had several massive spires and turrets, and, more interestingly, seemed to be inhabited. Situated behind the castle was what looked to be a football stadium, but it was hard to fully distinguish in the dark. The bastion itself seemed to be Gothic in architecture, but he did not hold that belief for he knew very little of the style of buildings.

Woo-wee. Looks like the Krauts have got themselves a castle.

This thought was promptly replaced by another.

Dear God, we weren't trained to siege a castle.

His mind raced to find a substantial method to assaulting and securing the castle, if in fact it was filled with Germans. Militaristic maneuvers flew unsystematically about his mind, yet he could not secure a logical and fool-proof one. He needed to rendezvous with Headquarters and formulate an infallible plot to take the castle. And, he decided, it was compulsory to find Welsh, Lipton and Meehan and assess their situation.

As he floated descendant toward a neatly manicured lawn of green grass, he gazed about the air around him. He spotted Luz and Liebgott, floating relatively close by, both wearing looks of extreme incredulity. Winters couldn't help but laugh at their countenances, though he himself was tremendously shocked.

Thud.

Winters hit the ground with a surprising softness, no doubt due to the well-kept lawn. Gazing quickly around the area, he gauged his circumstances. No leg bag. No gun. No defense against Krauts.

Shit.

On the ground, the dark was overwhelming. Winters could barely perceive the outline of his hand in front of his own face. As his eyes gradually adjusted to the gloom, he could make out a colossal Forest off to his right, as well as an equally vast lake some distance away.

A thump sounded just behind him. Winters swiveled around, and found Luz struggling in the webbing of his chute, wrapped up like a bug in the webbed machination of the spider. When the Private spotted Winters, he let out a jubilant cry.

"Well hey-oh, sir! My own chute got me quicker than the god-damn Jerries!"

Winter's smiled, but contradictorily to his expression his voice was harsh when he spoke.

"Keep your voice down, Luz!"

His speech unstiffened.

"Listen, from what I gather, the Krauts in that castle don't know we're here yet, so we must remain quiet. Here, I'll cut you out."

Winters withdrew a long knife from his boot and began to cut away the webbing. After this had been completed, they checked one another over and subsequently formed a plan. Winters possessed a .45 pistol he had overlooked when he had checked over his equipment, and Luz had his rifle, though he had lost his radio in the jump.

"Lieutenant Welsh's gonna have my balls for that, sir."

"Well, Luz, if you were in my platoon, I'd tell you that you were a rifleman first, and a radioman second."

"Yeah, tell that to Welsh, sir."

Winters chuckled. But after a moment, the levity disappeared from his face as the gravity of their situation regained its place upon his shoulders. He pulled a map torn at the edges from his pocket.

"Well, George, from what I've gathered, we're most likely at least fifty miles from the DZ in the Norman countryside, so this is useless. That turbulence must've done it." Winters said exasperatedly, wadding the map up into a ball and tossing it haphazardly behind him.

"Sounds about right to me, Lieutenant. Castle's kinda spooky, isn't it?"

"Yeah it is, Luz. Let's just hope we don't have to bother with it."

They made their way into the night, silently treading upon the grass and warily observing the blackened surroundings. It was unsettlingly silent; the only sounds the night produced were the irritating chirping of crickets and the rustling of the slight breeze passing through the grass. Winters retrieved his clicker from his left breast pocket and held it at the ready.

"Help!" someone shouted. "For Christ's sakes, someone help!"

The vociferation had originated from somewhere forward and to the left of the men, a southern Philadelphia drawl with a sharp under-bite.

"Christ, sir, I recognize that voice!" whispered Luz animatedly. "That's Bill Guarnere! Son of a bitch, ol' Gono made it!"

Winters and Luz discovered, after following a forthwith stream of expletives to is source, Bill Guarnere, dangling from the side of a decrepit wooden hut. His parachute was entangled around the chimney, firmly constraining Bill in his hanging position. Struggling and cursing, Bill flailed his arm and sent his rifle, which had been resting precariously on the edge of the roof above him, careening to the ground.

"Mother-

It was then he noticed his two fellow Easy Company comrades making their way to the hut.

"Thank Christ!" he cried mellifluously. "I've never been so happy in my god-damned life to see you, Lieutenant. And you're not too bad either, Luz."

"I'm fucking honored, Gono," stated Luz sardonically with a wide grin upon his face. Winters chuckled.

"That about sums up how I feel, Sergeant."

Somewhere off to the right of their position in the massive forest, a machine gun erupted into fire.

"Shit!" exclaimed Luz and Guarnere in unison.

"Get down!" ordered Winters, pushing Luz down by the helmet and dropping into a prone position. "Guarnere hang still!"

The machine gun let off several additional bursts, and then abruptly fell silent. Quietness overcame the night. The night air felt almost comatose. The quietude lasted for several entailing seconds, before an eerie scream shattered the tranquility. It was otherworldly; a sheer demonic-like shriek that caused the men to cover their ears and contort their faces in aggravation. Winters could not distinguish whether the sound was of a wounded man or, well, something else. An animal perhaps. The screech became increasingly cacophonous as it rose in pitch higher and higher until it sharply sojourned and died away.

Guarnere, a man tougher than steel, was thoroughly terrified.

"Holy shit!" he yelped. "Get me the hell down from here!"

"Shut up, Bill!" demanded Luz in a punitive whisper. "Ya' gonna get us killed by whatever the fuck that was!" His coffee eyes were as wide as saucers.

Winters was horrified, yet the fear did not exhibit itself in his outward demeanor.

"Ready your weapon, Luz," Winters commanded, his voice stalwart. "I'm getting the Sergeant down."

Luz nodded almost imperceptibly, slowly raising his M-1 and staring wide-eyed into the blackness. Winters slowly approached the hut, searching for a route by which he could scale the wall and get on to the roof. He noticed a window ledge offering perfect support and access to the roof. The Lieutenant climbed atop a barrel just below the window and maneuvered onto the ledge of the window, reaching up to grasp the siding of the roof-

BARK!

Winters froze. His blood ran cold within his veins and he felt the hair upon his neck begin to rise. Carefully, he peered into the window before him and found a massive brown hound with blood-red eyes gazing back at him. Subtly, Winters turned his head to Luz.

"Luz!"

George, still wide-eyed, transferred his attention to Winters.

"There's a huge dog in here! I can't tell if it's friendly or not, but if it gets out of the hut don't hesitate to put a bullet in it if it makes a move."

Luz's eyes grew broader, and he shifted his rifle from its position aimed into the darkness to the door of the hut. Winters judiciously lifted himself onto the roof.

Guarnere let out an exhalation of gratitude. "I don't care if you're a Quaker, sir; you're the best Lieutenant in this god-damned division."

"You mean that, Bill?"

"Every word, sir."

Winters beamed in the darkness. "You're not too bad either, Sergeant," he said, echoing Bill's words from earlier. "Now let's get the hell off this hut."

Winters withdrew the blade he had used to cut Luz free and began to cut away at the Sergeants parachute bonds. He chuckled. "Seems like I'm cutting a lot of people out 'chutes tonight."

Guarnere looked at him with amusement.

"Is that so, sir?"

"Yeah, Luz over here was wrapped up like a baby before he could even say 'Hi-ho Silver'."

"Now is that so, Luz?" Guarnere ridiculed. "Least I got caught by something and not my own damn body."

"Shut that mouth, Guarnere; Jesus, we shoulda' left him for the Krauts, Lieutenant." Luz muttered.

"Nah we couldn't have left Guarnere, Luz. Who else would be our ray of sunshine?" Winters deadpanned. Luz broke out laughing, and the men could feel the tension easing from the air. With a final slash of Winters' knife, Guarnere fell to the earth.

"Oh thank God!" he exclaimed. "I love the god-damned ground!"

"Yeah well, not even the dirt will ever love you back, Guarnere."

"Shut up, Luz."