As she assessed her wound and wiped it off, a wound that ended up being more annoying than anything, she heard the entry door open and close. As she pulled her undershirt back down, she saw the one person she didn't want to see.
"Roe, I promise, I am fine. It's just a scratch." Jean said quickly, pulling her shirt over the freshly washed cut. "Just cleaned it out. Don't need stitches. It's fine."
Gene just slowly nodded as he walked over. "Well, if it's truly nothin', then you won't mind if I take a look. Don said there was a lot of blood."
"Don doesn't know what a lot of blood is. He just over reacted."
Roe ignored her and motioned for her to raise her shirt to look at the damage. "And you know what a lot of blood is?" he asked under his breath.
Jean scoffed, "Hmmf, yes. As a woman, I deal with more blood than this on a monthly basis if you really want to know."
The medic in training blushed a bright red and immediately coughed, obviously not ready for that retort.
Realizing that even though she won the argument with her words, he still wanted to check. She raised her shirt to where the cut was and Roe silently nodded. "Yea, not too bad. Did you get the peroxide on it yet? Gotta make sure it won't get infected."
Jean shrugged and then shook her head.
Roe reached to the kit and grabbed the small bottle, taking a piece of cloth and getting it wet with peroxide. "Might sting a bit."
Looking straight at the wall, Jean didn't wince as she felt the cloth and the small sting it brought with it.
"Well, you should be good as long as it stays clean." Roe said, throwing the cloth and other items they used to the wash bin.
Jean nodded. Both stayed silent as he cleaned up the rest of the station and she put her shirt back on.
"So, you headed out for the last night here?" Roe asked.
Jean shook her head, "No, my final night shift on guard tonight."
Roe nodded, "Well, at least you shouldn't have that after this week. Sobel can't have that much sway once we meet up with other battalions. They'll be more men to split it with."
"Yea, maybe," Jean replied as they walked out the doors to the barrack.
"You going out then? Last big weekend before we get to England."
Roe laughed quietly, "Yea, a few of the guys roped me in to play cards with 'em."
They walked in the barrack, and Jean grabbed a fresh change of clothes and her towel. Nodding to Roe, she walked off to the showers, ready to wash the week away.
Once she got to the showers, she made sure that no one else was there before she walked to the back. She was met with silence and smiled to herself. Once they got to Fort Benning, she was overjoyed to find that the last stall in the showers had a lock. So as long as there were no men showering, she was able to shower in peace.
Locking the door behind her, she placed her towel and clothes over the door and began to undress. As she took her shirt off, she stretched her muscles and heard her back crack up her spine. The weight of Malarkey was hitting her full force as she blasted the water on.
Since most of the men had showered before her, the water was closer to cold than lukewarm, but she didn't care. The cool water felt good on her muscles and she saw all of the dirt swirl away to the drain.
After staying in the water a few minutes, the cold became too much and she finished up and turned off the water. Grabbing her towel and drying off paying special attention that she didn't aggravate her cut, she got on her uniform and grabbed her brush, going over to the sink.
As she brushed out her hair she thought that it was getting too long. Almost a year and a half ago in her first week at Toccoa, she had had her hair cut in a long bob so that it would look presentable in her dress uniform but long enough to wear in a bun. But now, she had only tried trimming her hair once, which turned out to be a disaster that Leibgott had to fix since he knew how to cut hair.
As she looked at her hair, her gaze drifted to her face. She was still the same Jean, but she had much more color than she had even seen on herself. While her skin would never be tan and glowing like some of the girls she went to school with, she now had a light tan on her arms and legs and her face seemed to be in a permanent state of pink.
She had noticed for a while that her body had grown more muscle. She hadn't been skinny or fat before, but she had never said no to a second helping of her grandmother's meals either.
When she first started, she hated wearing the PT gear since it showed her pale legs, but now she had no qualms about herself - at least when she was with the company. In her mind, they weren't anything other than her best friends. Sure she had thought a few of them were cute when she first started, but as they grew to know each other through the year and a half of training, she had somewhere began to only think of them as friends. Even if those friends could get on her nerve and then make her laugh a second later, they were there for her and she for them.
She still tried to keep in touch with a few girls from back home, but most were getting married, having kids, or working as nurses. Their lives were all too busy and too different to talk much. She did write her family often. Normally sending and getting a letter a week, all with multiple voices talking to her. Between her grandfather, grandmother, and her father deciding that it was better to write on the same page, they all would tell as small part of their week and spend the rest talking about how she was doing, was she eating enough, etc.
But recently the letters had become few and far in-between. Thinking of it, Jean realized that she hadn't had a letter in almost a month. It was odd, but Jean figured that the mail was either slow or there was another mass firing at the local post and they just needed to get caught up.
Jean spun her hair up into a bun, trying unsuccessfully to tuck the runaway strands back into the base. As long as she didn't see Sobel, she shouldn't be called out for a few loose hairs.
Grabbing her things and going quickly to the barracks to drop off her things, she grabbed some bread a meat from the mess hall side door and made her way back. She had become friends with a few of the guys that worked at mess, helping them clean on weekends or give a hand when she had time, so they were more than okay leaving small foodstuffs out to the side in case she ever came by in a hurry and didn't sit down to eat.
Settling in on her cot in the barrack, Jean got out her paper and pen and wrote a quick letter to her family, making sure that everything was okay, commenting on the weather here and hoping that it wasn't as hot back home. Signing it quickly, she looked at her watch and swore under her breath seeing that she had watch in under ten minutes.
Nodding at the handful of East men left in the barrack, she put on her jacket and headed to the North guard gate. As she walked up, she was able to admire the setting sun and how even though she knew it was the same sun from back home, here it seemed much brighter. That and the fact that she was dead tired made any light seem bright at the moment. Passing the men currently on duty, she saw a private from Able and a private from Dog.
The two men stood up, acknowledged Jean briefly, and then rushed off since they could still enjoy their Friday night out on the town.
Jean stood for a while pacing, trying to get her body to wake up until she head footsteps coming up the stairs. She immediately stopped and went back to the right side of the tower and looked out.
Turning as she head the last step being climbed, Jean was met by Lieutenant Speirs.
"Private Murphy," Speirs addressed, giving a small salute.
Jean responded quickly, saluting back, "Lieutenant Speirs."
Speirs nodded and walked to the front, surveying the open land in front of them. Silently, he reached into his pocket and grabbed a pack of cigarettes. He first offered one to Jean, who shook her head and have a soft "No, thank you."
Speirs just took the pack back and got out a stick for himself and lit it.
Jean didn't smoke often, but she had started to collect packs since the guys had roped her into playing cards at least once a week. When she first played, they just assumed that she hadn't played and in the first night, she had gotten over 4 packs of cigarettes and a few candy bars. Little did they know that her grandpa was a card-shark and had taught her how to play poker when she was 5.
Smiling softly to herself, Jean accidentally also felt herself yawn. Trying to turn and cover it, she was either too slow or too loud because Speirs was quick to say, "Tired, Murphy?"
Jean looked to the CO and saw a slight smirk on his face. About to answer, she was interrupted.
"I know most men in my company would be out like the dead if they did what you did this afternoon."
Jean scrunched her eyebrows, not realizing that anyone but the men in the company would've known about her obstacle course with Malarkey on her back.
"It was impressive."
Jean scoffed quickly, "Why, because I'm a woman?"
Speirs was no longer smirking but was looking straight into Jean's eyes. "No, not because you're a woman. The fact that you carried a man who weighs at least 50 pounds more than you across the course after having done parachute training all day plus a march. That is what's impressive. Not as many people care that you're a woman, Murphy. You should know that by now. It's impressive because you've been training to be a good soldier."
Jean was silent after his words. She knew that she often got defensive about being a woman, but with the daily reminders and inferior comments about her sex from her CO, she always found that she felt the need to defend herself. She'd even snapped at George and Bill a few times thinking they thought she was inferior or couldn't hack it. But they never meant it like she thought and deep down, she knew that.
The silence that followed Speirs honest remark about her grew to almost an hour. While she knew he had been right, she was too stubborn to apologize. She also didn't think that he was the type of man she needed to say sorry to after that. And she didn't really want to apologize.
To their left in the trees, there was a snap of a branch and then the short hiss of an animal.
Speirs has turned his body to the noise and Jean had just turned her head when she heard the noise as another longer hiss followed.
"It's just owls." Jean said.
Speirs squinted into the dark and then turned back to Jean then nodded. Sitting down next to Jean on the stool next to her his gaze continued forward but he began to talk.
"How do you know that's an owl? Sounded like a raccoon or something."
"My mom taught me." Jean said. "Barn owls don't sound like other owls. They don't hoot. They scream."
Speirs nodded. "It sounds angry."
"Probably mates calling each other. When they hunt they don't make noises. And it wasn't a long scream, so they weren't warding off a predator." Jean continued.
Nodding next to her, he looked back out as if trying to see if the owls in the night.
"Did your mother study animals?" Speirs asked.
Jean, startled at the personal question balked initially, and then took a breath before answering. "No, she didn't go to school. She just loved being outside and read as much as she could and learned a lot from her father."
"Sounds like she picked up quite a bit."
"Yea, she did." Jean said softly.
"Does she approve of you being in the Airborne?" he asked as if testing the waters of their previous conversation.
Jean sighed, "I think she would. She always told me to follow my own dreams and no one else's. But she died when I was 8, so I can't be sure."
Silence followed her response. Almost a minute went by before her guard partner spoke again.
"I'm sorry." he said quietly, finally looking at her for the first time in their conversation.
Jean smiled softly, looking him in the eyes. "It's okay. I can still remember bits and pieces of her. But the things I remember most is what she taught me. Like how barn owls screech and don't howl."
Looking back to the distance, Jean tried to remember anything about her mother. Her voice. Her smell. Her laugh. But nothing ever came to her. She could always envision a tall, brunette woman smiling at her, but it was always blurry. All she could remember was what her mother had taught her. How to listen to animals and tell what they there and what they were doing. About constellations in the sky and stories about warriors and princesses in the vast universe sky. But she couldn't remember the voice that went along with the stories.
"My mother tried to teach me how to bake, and after too many unsuccessful attempts, she stopped trying."
Jean smiled, "So you're saying you can't bake a cake, Lieutenant Speirs? Oh, and I was so looking forward to it."
Speirs looked at Jean and she felt her face turn red. Maybe she had gone to far. She shouldn't say things like that to a commanding officer. Saying he should bake her a cake.
But as she was thinking she had stepped too far, he smirked with his eyes on her, "Oh no, Private Murphy, I would hate to let you down. I'll bake you a cake, but I only bake on special occasions, so you'll have to wait."
Jean was completely dumbfounded. Trying to smile back, she grimaced at him before turning back to the open fields. Not knowing what to say, she just did her best imitation of a statue as she looked out.
Surely he was just making fun of her since she had made an inappropriate comment? It was just a confusing comment, but it sounded like he meant to bake her a cake. On what earth could she imagine Ronald Speirs baking a cake covered in flour and eggs. Thinking of the image, Jean couldn't help but chuckle to herself.
As the shift came to a close, Jean heard the next set of soldiers coming up the steps. She and Speirs stood up and he motioned for her to go first as the two privates came up.
Nodding to the men as she made her way down, she walked slower, waiting for her company to catch up.
"Lieutenant Speirs, why are you on guard duty so often?" Jean asked quickly. Ever since Toccoa, she had noticed that at least once every couple of weeks, he would be on guard duty with her. Since Sobel had her out there at least 2-3 nights a week it wasn't a shock that she saw most men in the regiment at some point, but she rarely held a shift with the same person. Speirs was the only one that she ever saw again and it was quite often.
"Just taking my assigned shifts." Speirs said as they walked through the camp.
Jean didn't push the subject anymore and just continued walking without any more conversation until they reached her barracks.
Turning to say goodnight, her toe caught on a rock and she had to take a step forward to stop herself from falling.
She started to say "Goodni-" as she looked up but she realized that she was now just inches from Speirs face.
The pair stood in silence for just a few seconds until Jean remembered where she was and that she was staring-in very close proximity- at one of her superior officers.
Straightening her back and taking a step back, Jean saluted him, "Goodnight, sir."
Speirs locked his back as he mirrored her body language. slightly cocking his head to the side and then saluting her back, he responded "Goodnight to you, Private."
Not wanting to stay in the situation any longer, Jean tore her gaze away and turned around to enter the barrack. As she walked through the door and began to close it behind her, she saw Speirs just start to walk away toward the officers barrack.
She convinced herself that he had only walked her back and stayed because he wanted to see her safely back. She also had to tell herself to stop thinking about it and focus on the fact that she was a paratrooper. He was just a CO that had a shift with her. Nothing more. It would never be anything more. Not that he would ever think of Jean in a way other than a soldier. But if he did... No. She was just thinking about it because he wasn't one the guys and was polite to her. Not to mention that he was attractive with his dark eyes and hair, and strong shoulders and- No. Just a soldier. A commanding officer. Jean shook her head as she went to sit on her cot and change before going to bed.
Most of the lights were out as she saw that some of the men were back from the bars while the others were probably living up the night since it was their last weekend stateside.
Yawning as she laid back to bed, she heard Malarkey roll over in his bed and face her.
"So Sunshine, how'd your last post go?"
"Well, might've been my last post here, but I'm sure I'll grab a few hundred more patrols wherever else we go to." Jean said softly as she already was starting to lose consciousness.
"Eh, yea, you're probably right." Malarkey said as he toseed and turned again. "Least you can finally sleep now."
Jean just murmured in agreement back as her eyelids were too heavy to keep open after such a long day. Drifting into sleep, she couldn't help but picture how her day had so many ups and downs. Their last practice jump, the awful course run with Malarkey, and her odd but nice guard duty with Lieutenant Ron Speirs.
