I finally got to start rewatching BOB. Took long enough but damn it doesn't exist to watch on the internet. I guess I'm finally getting into the juicy stuff, I really haven't had the chance to actually creatively write too much yet since I've been laying basic information and history down but getting to watch episode one inspired me.
Anywho…I need some feedback people! Tell me what you think!Even if it's one sentence I don't even know what anyone thinks of this! So if you like it, hell if you don't like it please take the time to jot out a quick opinion, it helps writers more than anything if they can only get some feedback.
1st Lieutenant Castiel Novak
The air was a collective choking mass of cigarette smoke, nervous sweat and fear. I sat on the floor of our C-47 while the plane shuddered and jerked and tossed us all about like balls in a lottery machine. A freezing wind that cut through my uniform whipped from behind me, shooting in through the open door.
I noticed Ash Luz across from me taking a deep pull from his cigarette before releasing a wisp of smoke since his lips were shaking so bad. It would have been deadly silent if it weren't for the roar of the engine and the distant booms of our destination. The clouded midnight sky flashed and crackled with light as if we were in the middle of a gargantuan lighting storm.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the frigid air before giving my men a brief glance. Some of them were chain smoking, some were staring wide eyed at nothing and everything, and some of their eyes were heavy lidded or closed from the air sickness pills Doc Roe had given us. Didn't know who's genius plan that was, not one of us ever got airsick, but it did knock the nervous ones out.
Wide glinting eyes would meet mine rimmed in smeared black from the grease paint we'd covered ourselves in like Indians. I could feel my own necking prickling from the paint and sweat mingling and running down my skin in rivulets. My eyes combed over the sprawled figures before meeting Dean Winchester's calm gaze.
Now there was a funny one, I didn't know much about him, we'd never seemed to cross paths, he didn't play any sports back at training camps and even though he'd just been promoted to Sergeant I could only account speaking to him once or twice…one being back in Aldbourne England; I struggled to keep an idiot smile off my face at the memory.
He wasn't quiet like me or some of the rare few in the company. In fact I would say he was one of the loudest, him and Muck were a pair to be sure. He was what Nix would call a rakish bastard, of course that was what Nix called himself so I never could quite know how to take it. Out of all the starting privates at Toccoa he was perhaps the most peculiar.
I had joined the army a couple years previous, back when you only had to stay for a year so I could avoid the draft…that is until Pearl Harbor and any discharges were no longer permitted. I chose to attend Officers Candidate school at Fort Benning Georgia, which is where I met Nix, God knows how I ever became friends with him. After graduating and being commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant I stumbled upon the paratroopers and was deeply impressed with the program and the men it would require…so that led me to Toccoa.
Dean was indeed rakish, he joked a lot and would have slept around even more if the army had permitted it. How he'd always loved the girls. But behind his entire bravado of charm and comedy he held a spark that even all the men in Easy didn't have. Most were here for the extra 50 bucks but as time had worn on it was to prove something to everyone around them and to themselves. It was difficult to explain the level of duty and honor my men started to believe in and uphold.
But Dean, he'd come into the army believing in something. Oh years later when you'd ask him he'd spew a bull excuse about 50 extra dollars and a boyish curiosity of jumping out of a plane but you could ask anyone that really knew him. Deep down, more than most, possibly more than any other, he wasn't just here to fight a war or kill some Jerrys or even because his country needed him, he believed in this greater cause.
And maybe that extra something, that extra hope and belief in the world that he never admitted to anyone, not even himself, even though we all knew it for him gave him something more. It gave him an extra drive, he tried harder, worked more, and I think he felt harder than some even. The result of this was…Dean Winchester was the best damn soldier I'd ever seen.
We all knew it but him; they all wanted Dean Winchester by their sides. Besides Shifty he was the best shot in the whole regiment. He had the best aim, the clearest head, and the best soldier's mentality. He knew just how hard to push, and how hard to pull, he was the best person to convince anyone of anything, all the while making them think they'd thought of it themselves.
I was brought back to the present by an especially violent shudder and blinked at Dean's shadowed face. He didn't look serene, I'd question his mental well being if he did, but he looked calm, his dark green eyes glinted softly in the light yet his jaw was held in a determined…almost purposeful expression.
He gave me a quirked half grin.
"Doin' alright sir?"
"Doing just fine Winchester, how about you?"
"Alright I suppose, gotta piss somethin' awful though."
I snorted, closed my eyes and slammed my head back on the wall behind me. The plane continued to jolt and rattle; the flashes and screams of missiles and mortar growing louder and ever closer. My stomach gave a twist as nausea worked its way up my throat at the violent motions of the plane and my own nerves.
So much could go wrong; there were so many what ifs and scenarios I didn't want to think about. I wasn't even worried about me so much, maybe a slight twinge of nerves, but I was terrified for my men. My loyal brave Easy Company. I continuously shoved the impending thought that it was impossible for all of us to make it out of this alive.
I took a deep breath, ignored my worry for Nix, for everyone and let my mind drift in thought…
10 Months Earlier
"Cas, I swear man you gotta try this!"
I glanced over at Nix's sprawled form. He was haphazardly lying across his cot and pulling deep gulps from his bottle of British Whiskey. I twisted my mouth in distaste and made a noncommittal noise.
"Even if I did drink…that looks revolting."
His mouth popped off the rim as he squinted at the label along the body of the bottle before he grimaced slightly.
"I've had better; at least it's not ale." He practically went green at the thought. I'd only seen Nix turn down alcohol once, which was after taking a long draft of Scottish ale before spewing it over the counter in revolted disgust.
"I need to round up the men for tonight's march."
He cast me a vaguely interested glance."Can't you give those poor bastards a break?"
"I would…but you know Roman."
His face twisted into an unattractive sneer."Yeah…Roman."
God, I didn't even want to remind myself about him. I was usually a tolerant man but in the name of all that's Holy Dick Roman was beyond the line of what I could handle.
Things were proceeding as normal. We were all acclimating to both English climate and its people. Three days out of the week we were marching, making night excursions. Once a week or so we would go on a two to three day exercise. The problems were designed to give us a working knowledge of the mechanics of combat but to teach us the most basic thing an infantry man should know.
And so we grew to know the English countryside. We attacked hills and towns…dug countless foxholes and lived in them through any weather, rain or shine, hunger and every other discomfort. There was a lot of night work, which drew us together more intimately. It came to the point where I could recognize a man in the dark not just from his gate but from the way he wore his helmet or slung his rifle.
This would have been a good time, a period of harsh training but a respite with weekend passes for the men. There was a popular saying with the Brits,"the problem with you yanks is that you're overpaid, oversexed and over here." To which my men would jauntily reply. "The problem with you Limeys is that you're underpaid, undersexed and under Eisenhower."
It was horrifying, the way those boys tore the English countryside apart with their fighting and whoring around. Wartime England was a sight to behold. It was a good time, all except for Dick Roman. We were all used to his usual "chickenshit" as the men called it but what was starting to recently worry us officers, 's and…well…everyone was Roman's horrifying military tactics.
Roman had made Easy Company as loathed as I was to admit; I hated the man more than most I think; but his blundering in the open field, his bull in the china shop approach to tactical techniques that worried me most. Not one man in the entire company wanted to be under that man in battle. He was dangerous; there was no other word for it.
It was like going under the leadership of a boy playing army. There was no sense to him whatsoever. He couldn't read a map, always had the company or his platoon not even on the right grid on a map! He would literally walk straight into ambushes that the simplest soldier knew how to avoid. But dear God he was the leader of Easy Company and we had to take orders, but we all knew those orders would get us killed in combat. And combat was coming soon, we could practically taste it.
My patience had finally reached its end with Roman when I received an official letter.
Company E, 506th PIR, 30 Oct.'43
Subject: Punishment under 104th A[rticle of] W[ar]
To: 1st Lt. C. J. Novak
You will indicate by indorsement [sic] below whether you desire punishment under 104th AW or trial by Courts Martial for failure to inspect the latrine at 0945 this date as instructed by me.
[Signed, with a grand flourish]
Richard M. Roman, Capt., Commanding.
I was furious, I couldn't quite explain the insane amount of control it took not to deck the guy, Courts Martial or not…he's also misspelled endorsement which bothered me more than it should have.
So I confronted Roman. I saluted.
"Captain, permission to speak sir."
I was given permission.
"My orders were to inspect the latrine at 1000 hours sir."
"I changed that time to 0945."
"No one told me."
"I telephoned, and I sent a runner."
"The family I am staying with has no telephone and no runner ever found me."
God how I was simmering. I'd always made a point of no swearing nor drinking, it wasn't religion, just a moral standard I resisted deviating from. But at that moment I remember thinking darkly.
Why you Son of a Bitch…I ought to…
I typed him out an official letter stating I request punishment by Courts Martial. His response was a letter denying my 48 hour weekend pass and that I had to type an official letter appealing for Courts Martial.
In the meantime they were trying desperately to figure out a way to weasel out of my appeal. It was the principal of the matter, he knew I never used my weekend passes but it was the point of the matter.
Then I received another letter stating that I had failed to instruct Pvt. J. Mello in latrine duty. I threw my hands up, I give up, shoot me.
I replied that there was no excuse. The next day Singer decided to transfer me out of Easy to be battalions mess officer. Oh I never said anything, but God how I'd simmered. You only gave a job like that to a guy who couldn't do anything right.
But I bore the shame as best I could, I wanted to be out there leading my men but I couldn't do anything about it…until one day I stood there checking off a list for tomato sauce of all things while men unloaded a truck when I stopped curiously.
I noticed the straight back high shoulders of every Easy N.C.O officer exiting headquarters. They were tight lipped but they held their heads high. What in God's name had they been up to, there was no telling with the things they'd started in town; but as they passed each paused to snap me a smart salute and a respectful nod.
I inwardly wanted to hug them all. This position, the circumstances I'd befallen were humiliating yet they gave me this look I couldn't place. The very last to pass me was one Dean Winchester. He gave me a sly crooked grin before nodding his head and giving a textbook salute. I saluted them all in a daze wondering just what in the hell was going on.
It was later that day I discovered every Easy N.C.O officer had wrote a formal letter turning in their stripes saying they no longer wanted to serve in Easy. I was aghast, it was mutiny; they could have been Courts Marshaled and shot for it. They would have been, had we not been mounting a full on invasion and needed the men. But that wasn't so much why I was so…in aw I suppose.
I knew they'd done it not because turning in their stripes. They wanted to serve in Easy as much as I did…which was the point I suppose. They did it to make a stand and get Roman out of there, because they'd rather be Court Marshaled then go into Combat with Roman. And they did it…a little for me.
Major Singer had been furious, gave the boys hell for it. But in the end luck was on our side. The airborne had just opened a parachuting school and Roman was transferred there, being such an excellent trainer and all. I was transferred back into Easy.
1st Lieutenant Thomas Meehan was transferred in as our commanding officer and we were finally out of Roman's hands.
And with that passing tide came another, far greater one. We were receiving news, big news of a full on invasion being prepared.
We were briefed, a full mounted invasion on Normandy. Every man was to memorize the details of the attack and a map of the beaches and countryside. We took an aptitude test of sorts beforehand to make sure we could draw the map out from just memory. They were saying it would be the largest invasion in history. They were just calling it D-Day. A rather unimaginative name I thought considering that was military terms for any frontal invasion, the D just stood for Day, the day of all days I suppose.
On June 4th, the planned D-Day we were all so nervous. We packed each other's chutes, because we knew we'd be more careful with our best friend's then our own. But then we'd unpack and repack them. Then do it all over again. I packed Nix's chute 5 times before I forced myself to stop.
It was a last minute decision to add the leg bags. It seemed like a good idea, they hooked to your leg so you could carry twice as much of your ammo and various other needed provisions. We were so loaded down, carrying over 100 pounds of gear and ammunition. We all waited on the runways. Hundreds, thousands of men in full combat uniform.
But in the end it was delayed because of weather, we wouldn't be dropping tonight…tomorrow.
And so on June 5th 1944, it was D-Day, the day of all days.
I stood beside Nix while he chain smoked and took continuous gulps of his whiskey. I gave a slight smile when I could hear Ash Luz's voice carrying down as he impersonated Eisenhower giving his grand speech. A soldier from Dog company I didn't recognize passed Nix and I both papers with the speech printed on them.
Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force! You are about to embark upon a great crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty loving people everywhere march with you. In company with our brave Allies and brothers in arms on other fronts, you will bring about the destruction of the German war machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over the oppressed peoples of Europe, and security for ourselves in a free world.
Your task will not be an easy one. Your enemy is well trained, well equipped and battle hardened, he will fight savagely.
But this is the year 1944! Much has happened since the Nazi triumphs of 1940-41. The United Nations have inflicted upon the Germans great defeats, in open battle, man to man. Our air offensive has seriously reduced their strength in the air and their capacity to wage war on the ground. Our home fronts have given us an overwhelming superiority in weapons and munitions of war, and placed at our disposal great reserves of trained fighting men. The tide has turned! The free men of the world are marching together to victory!
I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full victory!
Good Luck! And let us all beseech the blessings of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking.
- Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower
My stomach kept clenching and unclenching all the while I ignored it. The night before we'd been given a full out meal with steak and ice-cream. I was glad I hadn't eaten so much before we were to fly.
As I began to usher the men into the C-47's I walked past a line of Limeys and stopped short to realize it was the first emotion I think I'd ever seen them give. They had tears in their eyes.
So we were loaded up, pushing and shoving to get ourselves onto the planes what with being so heavily loaded down. I popped my airsickness pills and the planes rumbled to life.
~oOo~
Once again I was jerked back to the present as the enemy fire suddenly increased to a deafening level. My eyes snapped open and I looked around, realizing I'd dozed off. Winchester gave me a wry smile as he took a long pull from his smoke.
Soon all I could hear was my own pounding pulse and the deafening screams and explosions of the bombs and fire. The red light came on and I yelled.
"Alright men stand up and hook up!" We stumbled and lurched as the plane positively shuddered and rumbled. We hooked ourselves onto the zip line and I gazed out the door with worry.
"And check your clips and straps!Now check off!"
"Ten ok!"
"Nine ok!"
"Eight ok!"
"Seven ok!"
"Six ok!"
"Five ok!"
"Four ok!"
"Three ok!"
"Two ok!"I watched as each man slapped the man in front of his shoulder before he yelled. I waited till Guarnere slapped my shoulder before yelling.
"One ok!"
The sky wasn't dark, the entire world was chaos. Lights flashed and guns went off and planes exploded. I noticed the faint silhouettes of troopers lunging out of planes and their parachutes ballooning. The men yelled and cursed as the plane barreled this way and that evading enemy fire.
I shook my head, we were too damn low, they needed to pull up damnit, we were too damn low!"
The men were screaming."LET'S GO!LET'S GO!FUCKIN MOVE!"
I screamed."Not until the green light!"
At that moment the green light flickered on and I yelled."Alright move!"
I braced my hands outside of the door and felt the blast of air and fire. My heart dropped to my toes as I lunged out the door and into the air that slapped at me. My parachute billowed out and I yanked back in the harness as an updraft caught me.
I cursed as I felt my leg bag snap and go plummeting, Godamnit!
But my attention quickly wavered to the mortar shells and explosions raining down around my head. The cool air was gentler now that I wasn't hurling out of a plane like superman. The entire world was on fire as the sky flashed and lit with light and everywhere around me…all I could see was raining paratroopers and blazing midnight sky.
Well I sort of got some action in this chapter. No actual fighting yet but we're at least at D-Day. I found it more difficult to write Cas's point of view because I found myself leaning more towards Winter's pov. I have more of a decisive mental voice for Dean since I've written him quite a bit but this is my first time writing Cas.
I knew he would be different, this is WWII aggressive soldier Cas after all but it was still difficult. Anywhoo…I really liked this chapter but I want to know what you guys thought of it!
Please review and let me know what you thought!
