Thanks to Holly's Mean Reds, Amanda, Liliesshadow, and for their reviews. :)
Chapter 7: Nursing the Needs
"Lillian?" Most men that weren't accompanying the new voice were confusedly looking around. Malarkey's and Winters' eyes immediately looked to the group of men. Lillian turned around, and her face lit up with surprise.
"Clara!" Both sets of eyes followed Lillian who went to hug an apparent friend, another nurse in her uniform with her brown hair tied back in the same fashion as Lillian. They both looked exceedingly happy to see one another. "What're you doing here?"
"I was transferred here from the 57th about a month ago." Clara explained. "What're you doing here?"
"I was transferred from the 94th EVAC in Italy a few months back. What company are you in? How could we have not seen each other before now?" Lillian asked, curiously.
"I'm in Dog. What about you?" Clara inquired, just as curious as Lillian.
"Easy," Lillian explained, nodding. Clara nodded as well.
"That's why," Clara concluded.
"We have to talk soon. I haven't seen you in years. No … months," Lillian said.
"I know it feels like years. I'm off of duty around eighteen hundred, so how about we meet … eighteen ten?" Clara proposed.
"By Easy's HQ?" Lillian suggested.
"Perfect—Dog's aid station is a few minutes away," Clara agreed, nodding. "See you then."
"Bye Clara!" Lillian called to Clara as she jogged to catch up with the men she had been with. Clara raised her hand and gave a thumbs-up without looking behind her. Night came slowly for the two nurses who couldn't wait to catch up with the other. They weren't incredibly busy during the day, but nothing they did made the day go quicker. Unfortunately, time seemed to fly by when they met up; they continued talking until at least twenty-one hundred.
"So, I see that you've made quite a group of friends and fans in Easy," Clara commented.
"Friends, yes, but fans?" Lillian inquired.
"Lillian, you're the only woman in the company. And it's been God-only knows how long since they've seen their sweethearts. I know you're smart enough to know that they would be obviously looking …" Clara led on.
"Clara, these men are different," Lillian said honestly, shaking her head.
"Please! Just because they're paratroopers doesn't mean they don't act like other men," Clara argued.
"By the mere fact that they are paratroopers makes them different in how they act compared to other—"
"Lillian," Clara raised an eyebrow, "you know what I mean. It's so bad some times in Dog, especially with lieutenants who think they know everything." Lillian laughed at Clara's disgusted look. "But I didn't think the XO would act like that." Lillian's brow scrunched in confusion.
"The XO?"
"Major Winters."
"Major Winters doesn't act like that, believe me," Lillian assured, more than positive that Richard Winters had never and would ever act like how Clara was describing. Clara shook her head again.
"Really? Not from where I was standing," Clara retorted. "Sure, it wasn't to the same degree, but it definitely happened. When he was looking at you, I don't know, he just seemed shy and reserved. Now don't get me wrong, he's been a great leader for the battalion, but the way he was … Lillian?" Clara bent forward curiously to look at her friend who turned away from her. However, Clara's face lit up with a cry of exclamation, and a wide smile grew on her face when Lillian turned around.
"You should keep it down Clara. You might wake up the officers," Lillian advised, quietly.
"Oh Lillian, did you not know?" Clara asked. Lillian didn't answer. "Hold on now, do you—?"
"It's complicated," Lillian replied, fidgeting with her sleeves. "And it's getting too late anyway. I need to get back to the aid station."
"C'mon Lillian!" Clara exclaimed as the two women stood up.
"Clara, another time. I promise," Lillian promised, holding a finger to her mouth to tell her to keep her voice low.
"Don't think I won't forget either!" Clara said, pointing a finger at her.
"Company!"
"Platoon!"
"Attention!" All stood at attention before Speirs barked two more orders that included weapons. Lillian's eyes squinted against the bright sun, along with the banging of the guns on the ground around her did nothing to ease her growing headache. She just prayed that Speirs would stop soon.
"At ease," Speirs commanded finally. All of them separated their legs and relaxed a little, Lillian sighing in relief. "General Taylor is aware that many veterans, including Normandy veterans still do not have the eighty-five points required to be discharged." Lillian looked around at the men, and all she kept asking herself was how could these men not have enough points to go home?
"On this, the anniversary of D-Day, he has authorized a lottery to send one man home in each company, effective immediately." Talbert came up with a helmet, which Lieutenant Welsh shuffled up pieces of paper and picked one.
"For Easy company, the winner is …" he handed it to Speirs, and almost everyone straightened up a little more in curiosity. "Serial number 13066266, Sergeant Darrell C. Powers," Speirs boomed. All of the men smiled and cheered.
"Shifty!" The amount of wolf-whistles and jeers made the sharpshooter smile and blush.
"That's how it's done Shifty!" Luz yelled before whistling again. Lillian smiled.
"Sergeant Grant will see to it that 2nd platoon will take over at the crossroads checkpoint, beginning at twenty-two hundred hours," Speirs said before continuing, "General Taylor has also announced that the 101st Airborne Division will definitely be redeployed to Pacific." Men's faces became serious in an instant, the smiles wiped clean off. Lillian bit her lip at some of the hopeless and angered faces she was seeing.
"So, beginning tomorrow at zero six hundred hours, we will begin training to go to war. Dismissed."
"Come in," Winters called out, signing and reading the multiple reports on the table.
"I don't mean to interrupt you sir," the voice of Shifty Powers said softly in his Virginia accent. "I just wanted to say goodbye." Winters put the pen down and immediately stood up as Shifty continued, "You was, you was uh … well … it's been a long time." Winters nodded and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Got everything you need?"
"Yes, sir. I gathered up my loot—pistols mainly. Paperwork's all done, I even got my back pay in my pocket," Shifty explained with a small smile. However, Winters knew something was wrong with him as Shifty looked out across the lake and down at his feet. He was holding back something. "Back-back home in Virginia … well …"
Shifty looked at Winters, straight in the eyes, licked his lips quickly, and said, "I just don't rightly know how I'm going to explain all this." Shifty looked down again, and Winters waited patiently for Shifty to continue talking. Winters titled his head down, and Shifty's head came up and saw the look. Shifty nodded before he said, "You see um … I seen … I've seen …"
"You're one hell of a fine soldier, Shifty." Winters said with a smile and nodded. "There's nothing more to explain." Shifty looked up at Winters with gratitude and honor gleaming in his eyes before nodding slightly.
"Thank you, sir," Shifty said as Winters smiled. Shifty saluted Winters with a smile before Winters saluted back, putting some confidence and easiness back into to the finest shooter in the 506. Winters then extended his hand and shook Shifty's. And with that, Darrel C. Powers walked out of Winters' sight.
Just as Winters was about to continue his monotonous desk work, he stopped and began to think, looking in the direction that Shifty left. All of the men deserved to be sent home, but he was glad that Shifty was chosen. Before the lottery, he needed fifteen points because he had never been wounded. Seeing and talking to Shifty though opened Winters' eyes; trying to just speak about the war to Winters was difficult enough, how would Shifty handle it in America? Shifty spent a good portion of his time on the frontline, maybe a weekend pass here and there, but no leave to recuperate and not a day went by that he didn't see the enemy. All of the pent-up feelings, memories, struggles … All of that sounded oddly familiar to him. Winters remembered when Nixon had his splint and sling, and later the following night he was complaining to Winters after he regaled how Lillian found and fixed him.
"Then Jenkins was going on about venting and shit like that," Nixon said, inhaling his smoke. "She was saying that it'll eat a man alive or something." Winters shook his head.
"Well, you know she's probably right about that Nix," Winters explained. "More than likely she's seen that happen." Nixon nodded and heaved a sigh.
"Yeah." Nixon looked away, and Winters looked down at his feet. "She has some of her own venting to do," Winters looked back up at his friend with a questioning look.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Nixon shrugged, an exaggerated shrug, one that meant he was implying something.
"You saw how she was at Landsberg. Sure, that was pretty emotional and overwhelming day for everyone, but it definitely showed that she could use a break or something of her own." Nixon inhaled his smoke again before eyeing his friend.
Winters smirked at the memory. He knew what Nixon was implying because his friend had probably figured out his feelings for her now. However, that jog of memory inspired him to do some research, and he found that Lillian had not taken a leave of absence except for a week absence that was shortened to two days. He also discovered that her absence was given to her in Italy; Winters figured it was when she was wounded. For once, Lewis Nixon was actually in agreement with the official record. She did need a break.
"Afternoon, General. Lieutenant Jenkins is here to see you, sir," the sergeant explained, opening the door halfway.
"Bring her in," the sergeant opened the door completely, moved out of Lillian's way, and stood at attention. Lillian walked up to the general's desk and saluted sharply. General Clark returned the salute and offered her the seat. They both sat down.
"So, Lieutenant, you applied for a transfer?"
"Yes, sir."
"To the 13th Airborne, who is heading for the Pacific and more than likely going to stay there for the remainder of the war and months after?" he asked, formally but as if he wanted her to seriously reconsider the transfer.
"Yes, sir. That is my intention." General Clark looked at Lillian, who wasn't sure what to make of his look. He was suspicious, but still staring at her, he flipped open a folder with several sheets of paper in it.
"It says here you trained in California, then shipped off to the 57th Station Hospital in Algeria, and went through D-Day plus 174." the general seemed surprised. "That must've been hell,"
"It was … difficult, yes sir."
"Lieutenant, don't degrade your time and effort." General Clark shook his head and looked out the window. "I've heard stories and seen myself pieces of the horror the men, and nurses, deal with down there. 'Difficult' is an understatement for Algeria." He eyed Lillian in a manner that made her nod and clear her throat.
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," Lillian said.
"Then you and four others were transferred to the 94th EVAC in Italy," he said with a slight chuckle, "under Major Fillion's command?" A small smile broke Lillian's serious expression.
"Yes, sir."
"She's one spitfire of a woman, and one hell of a nurse," Lillian nodded.
"I learned a lot from her, sir. She is a great leader and model to follow," she commented. The general offered her a smile and a nod.
"Coincidentally, that's exactly what she told me about you." the general explained.
"He had contacted Marie? Why?" Lillian thought.
"You were wounded in Italy?" he continued. Lillian nodded.
"Yes, sir. The 94th took in two SS soldiers to treat them and nurse them back to health, in order to survive interrogation. They attempted to escape, and my arm and shoulder were stabbed by a scalpel."
"A scalpel?" the general's eyebrows shot up.
"The prisoner cut my forearm and then trying to push me out of their way, half of the scalpel was embedded in my shoulder," she explained.
"Then you were reassigned from the 94th to the 101st?" Lillian nodded.
"Yes, sir. Colonel Sink of the 506th PIR believed that they needed more medical assistance, due to their past outposts and in preparation for the upcoming outposts," Lillian replied. General Clark just nodded, looking at her.
"It must've been quite an adjustment," he commented.
"It was, and at the same time, it wasn't." Lillian said, shaking her head. The general leaned back into his seat. "The only real adjustments were that I wasn't waking up and working with women, and I was just seeing the men more often." He remained silent for a moment.
"Jenkins, I'm going to be straightforward with you." The general leaned forward. "Do you plan on making a career out of this?" The countless number of times she had asked herself this question, and all Lillian could say was the same answer over and over again.
"I … I don't know. I'm debating it, sir." She replied.
"Here is my answer for you: let the replacements and the nurses already there handle the Pacific," the general explained. "The 101st will be there soon enough. Besides, you want to go home, don't you?" Now that she was thinking about it, did she really want go home?
"Lillian?" She blinked and turned around in her seat to find Roe looking at her curiously. "You alright?"
"Sorry Gene, I'm fine. I was thinking," Lillian replied. She had become so lost in her thoughts that she forgot she was still sitting in plain sight of soldiers and still technically on-duty.
"Major Winters wants to see you at battalion HQ," Roe said.
"Alright, I better get going then." Lillian stood up from her chair and walked out of the aid station and to battalion HQ.
"Major Winters wanted to see me?"
"He just went to the back Lieutenant. Go up these stairs and at the third hallway, take a right and keep going straight," the corporal at the front desk replied.
"Thank you." Lillian quickly ascended the stairs and followed the hallway down to what was apparently the back. When she saw the view of the lake from the room, she went quickly towards the end.
"Harry, ignore him." Winters said. Harry? Lieutenant Welsh? Lillian held back.
"How am I supposed to tell her that I had the chance to go home to her finally and decided not to, so I could go jump on Tokyo?" Welsh asked.
"Alright, so don't tell her," Nixon said. "Besides, she's waited for you for three years, right? We'll back to Tokyo and back in two years, three tops," Nixon elaborated reasonably, smoking.
"It'll probably be over before we even get there. The reality is you're gonna sit here in Austria for six months, waiting to go, and I'll be back in Wilkesberry, making babies," Welsh explained, sounding happy with the last part especially. Lillian chuckled.
"You didn't tell him?" Winters asked.
"No, I couldn't get him to shut up," Nixon said, smiling.
"What? Tell me what?" Welsh asked.
"Guts and glory here applied for a transfer," Nixon replied. What? Lillian's face dropped.
"What?" Welsh exclaimed, sounding concerned.
"The 13th Airborne are heading out for the Pacific right away." No, he couldn't be … "If I'm going, I want to get it over with." He couldn't have applied for the same transfer …
"Are you in on this too?" Welsh questioned, turning to Nixon.
"I can't let him go by himself. He doesn't know where it is," Nixon replied. They couldn't …
"You're leaving the men?" Welsh asked.
"They don't need me anymore," Winters said.
Lillian closed her eyes in dismay. This couldn't be happening. They were all applying for the same transfer. Since the official announcement from General Taylor, she had been thinking about applying for a transfer, and a few days ago, she finally managed to decide that it would be better to go Japan earlier. So, she went and got the papers, yet Lillian hadn't handed them in. She only kept imagining how the interview with General Clark would go. It wasn't that she wanted to go home earlier, but she knew that anyone going would need help. That video was horrific, and she wanted to help over there as much as she could. She wanted to be attending to patients, stitching wounds and cuts, wanting to feel like she was being helpful; Lillian wanted to feel like she was still a nurse. She exhaled though, remembering that Winters actually called her to HQ for something. Besides, she didn't want them to see her and think she had just been there listening to that entire conversation. Lillian walked out to the balcony and stairs and made herself known to the three men.
"Major Winters?" Winters, Nixon and Welsh's eyes met hers, and they nodded their heads almost simultaneously in greeting.
"Jenkins, good," Winters greeted, walking up towards her, "I have something for you." The two walked back into the HQ and went into his office. He grabbed a piece of paper off his desk and handed to her. "I don't care where you go, as long as you're back on time and I don't see you until you're supposed to be back," Winters explained. Lillian's eyes widened.
"Sir, a twenty-four hour pass? Thank you, but what happens if—" Lillian began. Winters cracked a small smile, knowing something like that would come from her.
"Roe can manage running the aid station without you for a day," Winters dismissed. Lillian looked at Winters and reluctantly nodded.
"Yes, sir."
"Well, get going. Clock's ticking." Lillian nodded and saluted him. As she began to walk out, Winters called back to her, remembering something else, "Oh, and Jenkins?"
"Sir?" Lillian turned around. Winters walked over and handed her another piece of paper.
"Make sure you give this to Lieutenant Clara Johnson in Dog company. I'm sure she'll want it," Winters said, handing her another twenty-four hour pass.
"Yes, sir. Thank you sir." As soon Lillian was out of Winters' sight, her concealed, giddy, girly smile broke through, and she ran off to find Clara. To say the least, Clara was surprised.
"I can't believe he did that! I'll be out in a few minutes." Clara ran inside, called to a few people, dropped a few things in her efforts to get out quickly, and then came out, brandishing a key.
"What's the key for?" Lillian asked as they began walking.
"You think we're going to walk to the city? No way," Clara declared. Lillian's mouth gaped in realization.
"How did you manage to get a jeep?" she asked. Clara smirked in pride.
"The senior medic in Dog has a key to one just in case he has to rush a patient to the town hospital," Clara explained, "he trusts me enough to let me use it, I guess."
"All thanks to Algeria, I suppose." Lillian commented.
"Cheers to that disgustingly hot country!" Clara proclaimed while smiles grew on their faces.
They climbed into the jeep and started it up. As they came down the road, the looks on the men's faces when they passed by were confused, and in Clara's words "priceless." Soon enough, the two drove past the checkpoint, and Lillian waved to Webster as he looked up at her before talking to a German soldier. A smile grew on his face, crooking his cigarette to the side as he waved back.
"Lillian, who was that? He looks too good to be in the army," Clara exclaimed.
"David Webster. He's wonderfully charming," Lillian said.
"I wonder why I couldn't find any guy like him back in Maine." Clara shook her head.
"These are the paratroopers, remember?" Lillian joked. The two laughed, but their laughter was caught short when they heard a crash. Clara quickly stepped on the break as the two women saw the smoking, overturned jeep and barrels.
"Oh God," Lillian jumped out of the passengers' seat and began to run. Clara and Webster were at her side within seconds, and the three of them started uncover the jeep and get the two men out.
"Hang on, we got you," Lillian told the barely conscious Janovec as she and Webster unearthed him. Webster carried him, and Clara and Lillian shared the weight of the unconscious, but not seriously wounded driver.
"Nurse Jenkins?"
"I'm right here Janovec, don't worry. We'll be at the aid station soon," Lillian told him as the five of them climbed and maneuvered onto and in the jeep. "David—give me Janovec, and take the driver." Webster gave her Janovec as Clara helped Webster grab hold of the driver. Janovec's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and Lillian could barely feel a pulse.
"Clara, drive fast. I'm losing him,"
"On it," Clara said before the jeep sped back up to the regiment's outpost, the dust of the dirt creating clouds behind them. Webster kept staring at Janovec with wide eyes, as if he didn't believe this was truly happening.
"C'mon Janovec, stay with me," Lillian muttered before starting CPR. "Clara!"
"I'm going as fast as the jeep's letting me!"
"He's not responding!"
"Where is he bleeding?"
"I don't know! I'm just trying to keep conscious!" Lillian looked over Janovec's body. He was beaten up, but there was no bleeding on the front of his body. Lillian's face dropped as she went to lift his head. "Hit in the head!"
"Take my bag!" Clara tossed the musette bag behind her. "We're almost there!" Lillian applied gauze and pressure to his head wound, and as she handed back Clara's bag, her eyes moved to the road and widened.
"CLARA—LOOK OUT!"
Clara cursed aloud as she barely dodged an incoming truck and spun, almost out of control. No one was prepared for the spinning, and Webster and Lillian hit themselves against the sides of the jeep. Clara slammed on the brakes, and the jeep was thrown to a stop. Dr. Kent and a few of the other medics who had heard the screech ran outside to the five. Clara was explaining the situation to Dr. Kent as Webster and the unconscious driver got out of the jeep, but Lillian was checking Janovec's pulse. Lillian sighed angrily as she let go of Janovec's head and gently placed him onto the jeep.
"Dr. Kent, I need a stretcher and a blanket," Lillian said, turning to him. Clara turned around and peered into the jeep before sighing. Webster turned around as soon as the driver was taken into the aid station.
"I'll get the ambulance," Dr. Kent said, nodding to them before leaving. The stretcher was brought out, and Clara and Lillian placed Janovec's body on it. The ambulance came within minutes, and Speirs and Winters came running to the scene since they were in battalion HQ and heard the sirens.
"He was dead when they brought him in," Dr. Kent explained to Winters when he arrived. All of them looked at the private before the blanket covered his face.
"Seventy-five points," Webster muttered, shaking his head.
"What?" Speirs asked.
"He was ten points short," Webster replied before placing the stretcher into the ambulance. Winters looked over at the angered and saddened Lillian and Clara, and before he left, he pulled them both aside.
"Johnson, Jenkins, get yourselves cleaned up and go. Dr. Kent and the medics can handle things," Winters ordered. Both women were ready to put up a fight about how they would be fine with staying, "That's an order."
"Yes, sir," the two chorused before turning and leaving.
