The next morning, Captain Gross had informed me that the week had been given to the men to relax, get their personal effects in order - such as wills and letters back home - and the chance to tie up loose ends. He confided in me that the reason for this long break in training was because we were due to be leaving Camp Toccoa soon.

Hearing this news had caused me to become torn on the matter. While it was nice to have the break, I knew that meant the men would most likely be getting into trouble. That meant that I would have to be the one to set order back within the ranks. I wasn't looking forward to that task.

I tried to focus on my own personal tasks. I wrote letters home to my parents. I didn't have a need for a will at this moment in time, so I was less concerned about writing one up. As it was now, everything I had would be going to my parents as I didn't have anyone waiting for me back home outside of them.

The majority of the men had taken the time to leave the base during their free time; the nurses were no exception. It seemed like the days of seeing the nurses on the base were becoming few and far between. Part of me was reminded to what life was like on the base before their arrival, but then come the evening, they were back on base and I could breathe a sigh of relief knowing they were okay.

During my strolls around the base, I heard rumblings of how some of the men were planning on asking the nurses to upcoming events on base. One such rumor had me concerned for their safety because it involved Sergeant Jefferson.

I didn't realize the day that I had met that man just how much he would become the bane of my existence. It seemed no matter what, he seemed eager to find new ways of being around Nurse Banks. Had I not stopped him that one night weeks ago, he might have succeeded in whatever sick thought that had graced his lowly mind.

One particular afternoon as the men were returning from their allowed leave in the town nearby, I did my rounds about the base to clear my mind, as I did every day. As I neared the edge of one of the buildings, I heard voices, causing me to stop in my tracks. I recognized one of the voices to be Sergeant Jefferson.

"I'm not done with her," he told the man he was with.

"What are you planning on doing?" the other man asked, concern laced his words. "I mean, they had men from Easy to escort them back. I think you have to let it go-"

"They can't have the men escorting them everywhere," Jefferson stated. "Eventually, they will have no choice but to be alone."

"You're starting to worry me," the second man replied.

Jefferson's voice darkened. "If you say a word to anyone about this, I will kill you, mark my words!"

I straightened at his threat. I knew exactly who he was targeting without him having to come out and admit it. I decided not to walk around the corner this time to confront him. I had learned that confronting him did no good. I had to get creative on the matter. I needed help to ensure that he no longer posed as a threat.

I headed out in search of Winters. He was a good man and I knew that he'd help me out with this delicate matter. I also knew that if word got back to some of the men in Easy Company, they'd even volunteer for whatever solution we came up with.

Finding Winters was the easy part. He never left the base, even in his free time. I could always count on finding him somewhere - usually his barracks - writing letters back home to family or reading. I tried seeking him out at his barracks first.

I knocked on his door before hearing his invitation to enter. I walked in to see him sitting at his desk, just as I had assumed him to be. Dick looked up at me as I entered. He stood up and met me halfway across the room.

"What can I do for you, Ron?" he asked, extending his hand towards me.

I shook his hand. "I'm hoping you could be of assistance in a delicate matter."

Winters' brows furrowed together briefly. "What's going on?"

"It involves your field nurse," I replied.

"Emmeline?" he asked. I blinked at him, somewhat surprised that he called her by her first name instead of her surname.

Before I had a chance to explain the matter to him, another knock landed on his door. Winters tore his attention away from me to his door. "Come in."

We turned to see a couple of men from Easy Company entering the barracks, one of whom was Private Webster. I narrowed my eyes briefly at him, wondering why he was here.

"What's going on?" Winters asked.

The men from Easy seemed just as confused and uncomfortable to see me standing there as I was to see them entering. Webster carefully began, "We were hoping to talk to you about a man from another unit..." he turned his attention towards me, hesitating to continue. I knew immediately who he was referring to.

Winters turned to look at me, coming to the same conclusion that I had by Webster's wording. I held his gaze and stated, "I fear that we have the same problem, Private."

Webster seemed almost stunned at my admittance. I glanced at the other men that had entered the barracks with him. They seemed genuinely concerned about the safety of their nurse. It was written on their faces.

Winters seemed confused, turning his gaze back to his men. "What's going on? Someone want to fill me in?"

Webster explained, "We went to town today and we ran into the nurses." He glanced sideways at me, waiting for a reaction or for me to defend my Sergeant. I wasn't about to do either. He continued, "They explained that there is a man from another Company that's been harassing them."

"All of them?" Winters asked for clarification.

"Emmeline," Webster corrected himself. He shifted uncomfortably in his place. He continued to eye me warily.

"Which Company is this man from?" Winters questioned.

The men from Easy glanced over in my direction, almost afraid of what I would do if they said the truth. I cleared my throat, answering for them. "Dog Company," I said. I glanced between all of them before asking, "Isn't that right?"

They nodded, seemingly relieved that I had admitted that I knew more than they thought me to.

Winters knitted his brows together again. He glanced at his men once more. "Is Emmeline all right? What's this man done?"

"I don't know," Webster admitted. "All I know is that they seemed afraid of him."

I turned my attention back to Winters. "I will fill you on those matters in private," I stated. It was clear that Miss Banks didn't want to burden the men with specifics and I wouldn't betray her trust by making it universally known to all. I would respect her privacy.

Winters nodded that he heard me. "So, what are you hoping that we accomplish here?"

The men seemed at a loss to offer up a solution, outside of saying to get rid of him. I sighed heavily. "We could stage a fight between him and another man from the Division," I started to say. "A friendly spar between Companies but we make sure that he's too hurt to jump." The men stared at me in disbelief. I stated, "It's the only way to make sure that he goes home instead of with us." When they continued to stare at me, I added, "Unless you want me to shoot him?"

The men's faces were horrified by my suggestion to shoot my own Sergeant. Lord knew that I wanted to for a while, but I had restrained myself. This seemed to be the most logical way to go about handling Jefferson in a manner that he wouldn't be able to refuse.

"Who would we put up against him?" Winters asked, seemingly on board with this plan.

Each man in the room had raised their hands. Winters and I exchanged glances. I headed outside, with the men following me. I picked up a stick, breaking it into even pieces, except for one that was shorter. I turned and held it out for those men to draw from.

The men willingly reached out to draw a stick from my hand. When the man with the short stick saw that it would be him, a large smile plastered on his face. He removed his cigar stub from his mouth. "I won't let you down," he stated.

"I'm glad it's you, Bull," one of the other men replied.

Winters looked at his man. "Are you sure, Randleman?"

"There's nothing on this Earth to keep me out of that fight," he stated proudly. "I'd do anything for Emmeline."

Winters smiled like a proud father at the men. After he dismissed the men to prepare for this fight, he turned to me to find out what was going on.

I told him everything and I didn't hold back.

That evening, another party was being thrown. I had grown tired of these seemingly endless parties. I believed that it distracted from our purpose here. The men were beginning to forget why we were here and what we had been busy training for. When I had vented to Captain Gross about it, he simply told me that the men deserved to have fun while they could and reminded me that the majority of the men wouldn't live to see another party. I gritted my teeth and kept quiet about it moving forward. I refused to be part of the celebrations.

Instead, I reminded myself of the upcoming fight between Sergeant Jefferson and Easy Company's Sergeant Randleman. After seeing the size of Randleman, I had no doubts who would win this fight. Randleman was twice the size of Jefferson. His enthusiasm regarding this fight had been admirable too.

I let the men handle setting up the fight. It spread through the two Companies like wildfire. Word got back to me about the hour in the morning that this would take place. It would be happening shortly before the sun rose - before the base woke up. The timing couldn't have been more perfect for this.

When the time came, I found myself standing next to Winters while the men circled around, leaving an open ring for the fight itself. Randleman stood in the center, cigar stub hanging out of the corner of his mouth. He had taken his shirt off, leaving only his tank on. He didn't seem nervous but at the ready.

Jefferson shrugged his shirt off, smirking at Randleman before stepping into the circle. He sized Randleman up, clearly believing he would win this fight. He stared at Randleman, taunting, "I used to wrestle in school! I used to mop the floor with men your size." Randleman didn't say a word.

Winters stepped forward and stated, "This is a friendly match. The first one to yield loses." He looked between the men and asked, "Questions?" When no one answered, I caught a brief glance between Winters and Randleman. Randleman seemed to be asking silently for permission to beat the man within an inch of his life. Winters just nodded as he stepped away from the fight circle.

The second Winters had stepped out of the inner circle, Jefferson swung his right fist, slamming it hard into Randleman's shoulder. He quickly followed that blow with his left, landing on his jaw.

Randleman staggered back, stunned at how quickly Jefferson began the fight. The blow to his jaw caused his cigar stub to fly out of his mouth and to the ground.

Jefferson cocked his right arm back, ready to strike again, but Randleman blocked it as it came for his face. Randleman took his own fist, landing his own blow to Jefferson's stomach. The moment Jefferson crumpled slightly from the hit, Randleman brought his left knee up to meet Jefferson's chin.

Jefferson collapsed to the ground, on his hands and knees. Randleman turned to look at the men encircling them as they cheered. Jefferson had scrambled to his feet, charging at the turned man. He lunged for Randleman, wrapping his arms around his waist, tackling him to the ground.

The crowd moved out of the way as the two tumbled to the ground. Jefferson waited until Randleman rolled over onto his back before he started wailing on him with his fists.

Randleman took a couple of hits to the face before grabbing Jefferson by the shoulders, throwing him to the side. Jefferson regained his footing, just as Randleman hopped to his feet.

Jefferson charged Randleman again but was stopped by Randleman's fist to the nose. Everyone heard the nose break on contact. Jefferson shouted out in pain. He recoiled from the blow, holding his broken nose, blood cascading down his face.

Jefferson whirled around to glare at me. "Are you going to stop this, sir?"

"Do you yield?" I asked simply. I stared back at him with a calm expression.

Jefferson's eyes flashed red at my answer. He turned his back on me and he began attacking Randleman as a man possessed. Randleman struggled to block the flurry of attacks Jefferson dealt out. With each blow on Randleman, the more concerned I had started to become that Randleman might not win this fight after all.

It didn't take long before Randleman finally had enough of the fight. He used his shoulder, charging at Jefferson, knocking him onto the ground. Another loud snap echoed around them. Jefferson screamed out in pain.

Randleman quickly stood up, standing a few feet away from Jefferson as he laid still on the ground. Easy Company's medic rushed over to check him out.

Silence fell over the group. I remained where I was, waiting for the medic's news. He turned to address Winters and me. "His back is broken," the man stated. "Looks like he's heading home."

I nodded curtly, turning to Winters. Our eyes locked and we didn't have to say anything to one another. We knew that our problem involving this man was now over. I turned my attention to Dog Company's medic. "Get a stretcher," I ordered. "Get him out of here."

"Yes sir," my medic replied, rushing off to fulfill the given order.

I turned to the men still standing around to observe the scene. I spoke loudly enough for all to hear, "Go on. It's over."

The men began to disperse. I lifted my gaze to Randleman. Surprisingly, he didn't seem to have many bruises from the fight, except the massive one on the shoulder that Jefferson caused at the beginning of the fight. Randleman bent down to pick up his cigar stub, meeting my gaze as he stood up.

I offered him a small smile of thanks before pointing to his shoulder. "You should get that looked at."

He smiled wide. "Yes, sir." He turned and headed off towards the nurses' barracks. I knew that he'd inform Miss Banks that the danger of this particular Sergeant was no more.

I turned and walked away from the scene, silently happy that this was all over. I had, once again, done all that I could do for Miss Banks. There'd be nothing left for me to do for her anymore. I could focus my attention on the matter at hand moving forward. She didn't need protecting any longer.

A couple of days later, Jefferson had already been sent home to recover. During that time, we had been informed that we would be leaving Camp Toccoa and heading out. The orders were given to the men to begin packing up for the long journey towards New York.

It didn't take long for me to have my things packed up. I didn't bring much with me. There seemed to be no point in bringing anything along, only to ship it back home.

I continued to walk about the base, keeping the order when needed. I watched as the nurses spent their last few days at the base, packing and organizing the infirmary's supplies. I could see Miss Banks looking more relaxed since the incident with Jefferson had been handled. She seemed to be smiling more too, which was a rarity to see. She had a beautiful smile.

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to continue on my way.

The next morning, before the sun rose, the Division had been ordered to travel to the train station. Everyone piled into the train, finding a place to make themselves comfortable for the duration of the trip. I spent the first few hours, pacing the carts to make sure the men were in check. Once I was satisfied with my findings, I found an empty bench and sat down, lowering my hat over my face slightly to block the light. I was still tired and with this long train ride, there'd be nothing else to do but rest.

"May I sit?" a familiar voice asked.

Hearing Miss Banks' voice, I opened my eyes under my hat, wondering if she had been speaking to me. I didn't move as I waited for her to say something else to me.

I heard movement behind me as the man sitting there moved things around. Her voice spoke again, "How are you?"

"I've been better," the man's voice said directly behind me.

I thought about that voice. It finally dawned on me that she was speaking to Private Webster. I gritted my teeth, closing my eyes, and willing myself to sleep so I didn't have to focus on it any longer than necessary.

"I've been wanting to talk to you," she admitted.

"It's okay, Emmeline," he tried to say. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her. "Really."

"No, it's not," she replied, voice growing concerned. "I have to tell you something. I need you to understand what happened that night."
I furrowed my brow. I wasn't sure which night she was speaking of. I continued listening in on their conversation.

"The thing is..." she began, voice trailing for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. "I-it's been brought to my attention that..." She released a heavy sigh. "I've never been very good at knowing when someone has feelings for me unless it's bad. The truth of the matter is that I've lived a pretty neglected life."

There was a pregnant pause before I heard someone shifting in their place. Miss Banks continued, "I grew up in a home for girls. I was there since I was a young child...my father had died in the war and my mother just couldn't handle it."

The conversation fell silent again. I could hear the rumbling of the train overtake the room as I listened in.

She continued, "I would never wish anyone to live in the conditions that I had to in that wayward home. I've never thought that I was good enough for anyone and I struggle with that each and every day. I want you to know that I do love you, but not in the way that you want me to...I'm not even sure that I know how."

I felt my stomach drop listening to her confession. I felt guilty for eavesdropping on a personal conversation between the two of them, but I found myself unable to walk away or drown them out. She was sitting there telling him that she didn't love him...and I wanted to know why.

Memories of the two of them dancing that night came rushing back into my mind. I began to wonder what took place that night between them. That had to be the night she was referring to when she began speaking to him.

Webster finally broke the silence by asking, "Why are you telling me this?"

She replied, "Because I needed you to know the truth about me. I've never shared this with anyone..." she paused before saying, "Also, the girls are back there talking about family and things like that and I can't talk about mine...I just don't have that." Another short pause overtook the conversation before she added, "I love that you're my best friend, David. I hope that wherever we end up, we will still have that."

He cleared his throat quietly before saying, "I'd rather be your best friend than never having you in my life at all." He shifted in his seat, most likely sitting straighter in his chair. "Who knows, maybe one day, we'll be together in the end."

I tensed at the remark. I wanted to tell him to get the point; she wasn't interested. Instead, I remained still and silent behind them.

She chuckled politely. "We'll have to see, but promise me that you won't hold a candle for me."

He whispered, "I could teach you how to love..."

"I bet that you could," she admitted. "But right now...I don't think it's the right time. I'm still broken." Another pause before she added, "Anyways, I just wanted you to know what happened that night."

I heard her standing up from her seat. She said, "I guess I will see you around."
I heard her footsteps walking away from us. The sounds of the train engulfed my ears as the conversation ended.

My mind raced with thoughts from that conversation. She had just opened up to Private Webster about her past - about things that she had endured - which explained why she was the way that she was. It started to make sense as I thought over her confession.

I still didn't have all of the facts about her past, but I had enough to go off of to draw up some compelling conclusions. It explained why she was so shy and timid, why she always did the right thing - she feared the punishments that would come from standing up for herself.

I realized as I sat there reminiscing over the details of Nurse Banks, that she was quite the mystery - one that I would solve eventually.

After the long train ride ended, we were shuffled onto the boats to head overseas to England. It would be quite a long journey in small quarters. Tempers would flair within the ranks as there would be zero room to move about, no privacy, and nothing to do but start fights.

I couldn't wait for the boat trip to be over and I knew the men would have mirrored my thoughts to the letter if they had been asked.