"You know, there ain't a lot going for us on this mountain".
"Sure there is. We could toss you over the side, see how long it takes you to reach the bottom".
"Martin, that's wrong".
"If only there was someone who could find out what the hold-up is".
Frankie shook her head, "I know you're not looking at me".
"Come on, Frank-O". Luz urged, "we'd do it but-"
"we ain't as nice as you". Perconte said, "besides, Martin might toss me over this fucking mountain".
She squinted up at him, "all those watches will drag him down, Sarge. Wouldn't take long".
Martin chuckled, "ah, Frankie…so smart".
"Besides". Frankie said, "Malarkey and that are trying to get rid of the rocks and shit to clear the way".
"It ain't working". Perconte pointed out, "we've been here for over an hour".
It was early May; the weather was hot, and they had finally reached Bavaria. Now, they were hoping to capture the town of Berchtesgaden, the famous town high in the Alps. It was the Nazi party's symbolic home and the heads of the Third Reich had houses there. And though Hitler had committed suicide, apparently, the man had ordered the SS to make it their last stand from which to mount a guerrilla resistance against the allied advance. And they had done a fine job with blocking the road.
Frankie got onto her feet.
"Kid, you don't have to". Martin said.
She shrugged, "it's fine, Johnny. They're too scared to find out themselves, eh?"
Frankie walked away from Easy and headed up towards the truck where Winters, Nixon and Welsh were. She approached the jeep, and looked towards the picked mortar squad, who were running back from all the grenades and explosions they had planted by the rocks. When it exploded, they managed to shift a few rocks but nothing more. Frankie tilted her head to the side.
"Could always tie me to the end of a sling-shot, sir".
Nixon chuckled, "well, there's an idea".
Winters turned to look at her, "the guys giving you a headache, Corporal?"
"Just a wee one, sir". She mumbled. "Thought I'd be better here".
"Well, when you do return. Tell them we're still in the process of waiting".
Frankie smiled a little, "alright, sir".
Winters leaned back against the front of the jeep, "when are we expecting the engineers to arrive?"
"Half an hour ago". Nixon replied.
"We're stuck here until they do, Nix".
Frankie lips twitched. They must have forgotten she was still here.
"Well, if you're the SS, you're not 'gonna let us waltz into Hitler's house. Probably throw a few rocks at us yourself".
"If you're looking for someone to find another way up that mountain, Easy Company is will and ready". Spiers said, while he walked towards the jeep.
Winters smiled and nodded, "duly noted. I already recommended you to Col Sink".
"Terrific. Let's go find out where Hitler lived".
"Ron". Winters stopped him, "we're not sure what's up there. The Col doesn't want us taking any unnecessary risks".
Spiers looked towards the mountain and then back to Winters, "so, the French are 'gonna beat us to the Eagles Nest?"
Frankie could see the endless possibilities in that man's eyes. The possibilities being what he could find, steal and send back to his family. It was pretty funny, actually. Frankie had to look down to hide the tiny smile on her face but soon lifted her head, when a jeep drove up to them. Oh, it was Col Sink. Straightening herself up, she saluted the Col with the rest. And she stayed back, while the three of them walked towards his jeep.
"Gents, I just had a conversation with General LeClerc. He told me he was first into Paris and by God, he wanted to be the first into Berchtesgaden. I told him I understood his point". Sink told them, "now, you fire up 2nd Battalion and outflank that French son of a bitch".
Winters smiled, "yes, sir".
They all saluted the Col, who paid a short but uplifting visit.
Spiers walked up towards Winters, a smile on his face.
"I want Easy Company in the lead. Have them assemble down the autobahn".
"Yes, sir". Spiers then looked towards Frankie, "when did – come on, Hughes".
Soon, Easy had entered Berchtesgaden, successfully outflanking the French and beating them up the mountain. The town was almost empty and white flags were hanging out from the windows of the glorious houses. This place was like a kingdom on a mountain, it was stunning. Still, they kept their wits about them, just in case they decided to have one last blow-out. That didn't happen and Spiers ordered them all to find a house. They may have gone a bit overboard finding the best house and claiming it quickly.
Fuck it, they deserved to live in luxury.
Like last time, Frankie shared a house with the same roommates. Luz had brought out a bottle of champagne and popped it, he took a swig for himself, before pouring out glasses for them all. And they only managed to take a sip, before Lipton walked into the house.
"Guess where we're going?"
"Uh…Berlin?" Perconte guessed.
Luz slapped him on the back of his head.
"What the hell, George?!"
Lipton grinned, "we're taking the Eagles Nest".
Getting up the mountain went two ways, some of the Toccoa guys decided to run up, while the rest rode up in trucks, cheering them on from the road. Frankie didn't run up, she was happy sitting in the truck, finishing off the rest of her drink, which she brought along – of course. It was a great feeling, everyone was in one of the best moods they had been in for a very long time and Frankie basked in it, finding comfort that her friends were truly happy.
She didn't come to grips that they were in Hitler's holiday home, which was perched on top of a mountain, looking over other mountains. It was a beautiful view. Frankie wished she could wake up every morning and open her curtains to see something as stunning as this. Six thousand feet above the earth, on top of the summit of Kehlstein. And Hitler hated it because he was afraid of heights. What a wanker; Frankie thought.
"If someone gave me this for my birthday". She told Martin, "I wouldn't be sitting sulking in a pure sour mood cause I was afraid of heights – what a prick".
He chuckled, "yeah, he's an ass for sure".
The Eagles Nest was utterly luxurious. Frankie didn't even think the King had it this good.
Frankie wondered away from the others and headed up the stairs. She walked down a corridor, which had paintings on the walls. Frankie didn't stop to admire them, she had never been an artsy person. However, when she entered one room, Frankie saw a few canvases covered with a sheet. Curious now, she put down her rifle and pulled the sheet away. Frankie looked at the painting. It was okay, the guy had clearly liked painting castles and grand looking buildings with nice weather and good landscapes. She picked the painting up and looked closer at the signature scribbled at the bottom of the canvas.
"Holy – shit!"
Frankie dropped the painting.
Adolf Hitler.
Frankie shuddered, she didn't know he painted. She rubbed her hands on her trousers and looked deeper into the room, wondering what else she could uncover. The bedroom was spacious, with a balcony looking out towards the beautiful view. Frankie wondered if this was Hitler's room, his paintings were here anyway. Frankie stepped onto the balcony, leaving the door open. She leaned against the wall and got lost in the breath-taking view. Frankie didn't know how long she had stayed out there for, but it must have been a while because it had reached later on in the afternoon.
"Oh, there you are".
Frankie turned around.
"You like the view?"
She shrugged, "can see why Hitler didn't like it much".
Lipton grinned and stood beside her.
Frankie looked back out towards the view, "it's nice – the view and that, eh?"
He nodded, "yeah it is, Frankie".
"Didn't know the wee guy painted, sir".
"Who? Hitler?"
She nodded, "yeah, sir…he paints".
Lipton huffed out a laugh, "there you go".
"Yeah".
He cleared his throat, "well, while you were hiding away up in Adolf's room. You missed the announcement".
Frankie looked up at him, "thought you were already married, sir?"
Lipton chuckled quietly, "no, not that, Frankie".
"No?"
He shook his head, "alright – brace yourself, okay?"
Frowning a little, Frankie kept a hand on the wall.
Lipton sighed softly, "the German army surrendered. The European war is over".
She continued to stare at him, not blinking or moving. Frankie stared at him for a good few minutes, Lipton pulled a tiny face of confusion and concern.
"Frankie". He placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Okay". Frankie eventually said, "right – okay".
Lipton laughed a little, "okay?"
She nodded, "eh – yeah. That's alright". Frowning a little, Frankie looked back towards the view, while Lipton watched her carefully. "So…what happens now?"
"We're staying here for now". He said, "there's a lot to sort out before…".
"We leave". Frankie finished quietly.
Lipton nodded, "that's right".
"I think it's 'gonna be alright, sir". She said softly.
"It will be".
The only way she could deal with the war ending, was by getting drunk with the rest of her friends. When they got back to Berchtesgaden, bottles were popped, beer was poured, and whiskey was passed around and drank like water. The V.E-day party was well and truly a magnificent affair. The streets were loud, houses were turned upside down and everyone was having an amazing time.
Frankie had turned into a completely different person. She blamed the altitude, it was making getting drunk far too easy. She was running down the street with a white flag, wearing it as a cape, while Webster ran after her, holding up one of Hitler's paintings and announcing that they were "the worst piece of art in the history of all art!" Frankie then came up with the great idea of burning the paintings. Thankfully, a far more level-headed Christenson said it wouldn't be such a good idea to start a fire this drunk.
"Hi-ho silver!" Malarkey yelled, while he placed Frankie on his shoulders and ran up the road with her, cape blowing behind them. She drank the rest of her wine, a drink she used to hate, and threw it across the street. It smashed into a window. Frankie laughed.
"It's fine!" She said, "O'Brian can get that!"
"It's O'Keefe!"
"No one cares, O'Flannery!" Perconte called out.
So, Easy continued to celebrate into the wee hours of the morning. Frankie was the last person standing. She wondered into the house, a lot of people didn't make it to bed that night. Putting down her bottle of whiskey, she sighed and sat down on the floor, poking Luz's face.
"What?" He mumbled, eyes still closed.
"It's fine". Frankie laid down next to him, "goodnight".
Luz wrapped his arms around her, "night, Frank-O".
Good God, why did she put herself through such torture.
Frankie didn't wake up sober, she woke up a few hours later with the room spinning. Everything felt like a blob and Frankie thought people were talking to her in another language. She sat up, rubbed the back of her neck and bam! Puke everywhere. Luz let out a yelp and quickly took his arms away from her body, while she continued to vomit everything in her stomach. It went everywhere, all over her uniform, the floor and even on the furniture.
"Jesus, kid!" Martin ran over to her, "it's everywhere!"
"It's on me!" Luz laughed because he couldn't believe it. "I was sleeping – next thing, Frankie's spewing out the fucking Niagara Falls!"
Sighing, he rubbed her back. "Get it up, there you go".
"You're lucky I fucking love you, Frank-O".
Frankie was too busy to reply. This was horrible. She'd never drink again.
God hated her.
"What the hell's going on?" Perconte mumbled to the rug, "what's that noise?"
"That's the sound of one too many". Martin said, while he winced in sympathy. "Aw, Jesus".
"Huh?" He lifted his head and turned to the noise, "aw, man…it's fucking everywhere".
"Yeah – no shit, Frank". Martin said, "look, go grab something to clean this up, huh? And a get a bucket".
"Yup – on it".
It lasted twenty minutes and Frankie eventually passed out when it ended. Her friends took care of the mess, cleaned her up and carried her to bed with the bucket by her bed. And when she woke up again, Frankie had to brush her teeth before she was sick all over again. She took it easy that day, didn't eat and spent most of her time sleeping or taking sips of water.
By the next day, Frankie was better and back to being human again.
The days spent in Berchtesgaden were pure bliss.
Long lies, lazy days, good food and drink. It was brilliant. Easy were living a cosy and comfortable life once again and it was back to being normal. Frankie had taken up a new activity which didn't involve consuming so much alcohol that she vomited, she actually liked running. Frankie woke up early in the morning, changed into her PT gear and went for a good six to eight-mile run. She found it helped clear her head and kept her away from bad habits, like drifting off into previous hardships they faced during combat. Frankie hated running during training, but she loved it out here. She started to get competitive with herself and tried to beat her time every morning. And within a week, Frankie had gained more and more endurance and speed.
"Mind if I join you?" Spiers asked her one morning.
"If you can keep up, sir".
Oh, she was getting far too cocky with this running malarkey.
But she had every right to be, Frankie was a great little runner.
"Alright, you beat me".
She looked up at him.
Spiers smiled, "good choice in hobby, Hughes".
"Still got four-miles to go, sir".
His face fell.
"We need to reach eight-miles, sir". Frankie explained.
He sighed, "right – let's go".
When Frankie waked inside the house, she went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, chugging the lot down.
"You ever think about joining the army?"
"That's funny, sir".
Lipton grinned, "did I see Spiers running with you?"
Frankie nodded, "aye – I beat him".
He chuckled and clapped her shoulder while he passed, "good job, Frankie".
It didn't stop at running, Frankie worked a lot on her upper body strength. Push-ups and pull-ups, she spent a good couple of hours working to gain strength. Frankie had beat her thirty limit and could now do up to sixty push-ups and twenty pull-ups. It was like her new obsession, getting back to the peak of physical fitness and improving it even further each day. She did it because it kept bad things away and because they weren't getting ordered around, Frankie needed to give herself discipline.
"Wrong – Frankie, wrong!"
"Jesus, Sarge. Your shouting isn't bloody helping".
"Pull up!"
Sighing, Frankie stopped the jeep and looked up at him. "You 'wanna drive, man?"
He looked down at her, "look, you're not doing it like it's mapped out in my head".
"I'm not a mind reader". Frankie mumbled, "so…what do I do?"
"Okay". Martin said quietly, "ease up on the gas, right? Keep both hands on the wheel. I'll be in charge of the stick".
"Right".
Currently, Martin was teaching her how to drive. Frankie wanted to learn, he offered.
"Okay, take it easy up this hill".
Frankie tapped on the gas and kept her other foot lightly against the break. Slowly, the jeep moved up the small hill. Martin sighed, sounding relieved.
"Good". He mumbled softly, "alright, just nice and slow, huh?"
She snorted, "honestly, Johnny…did you think I was 'gonna kill us?"
"I did, yeah".
Frankie frowned, "well…that's not very nice, is it?"
Martin chuckled, "hey – you're doing great now, kid, huh?"
"I know". She said, "I'm a fucking natural".
Frankie pressed down on the gas, just a little harder, so they could reach the top of the hill quicker. She then took a left-hand turn, Martin was pressing down with his foot on the floor, waiting for her to break. Frankie was a good learner, he didn't have much to worry about. She stopped the jeep when they reached the top of the hill and pulled the hand break.
"Good job". Martin said, "you've done well for your first try, kid".
Frankie leaned back against the seat and crossed her arms. "Got a good teacher, eh?"
He smiled at that and soon relaxed into his seat. "Kid? Why did Pat tell me you 'wanna stick around in the army?"
"Cause he was saying what I told him".
Martin shook his head, "don't you 'wanna live life like a normal teenager?"
Frankie huffed, "Sarge, I'm not even sure what that is".
"Well…go and find out". He said, "you ain't 'gonna find it in the army".
Sighing, she looked up at him. "Sarge, this is the only time in my life, where I've felt like I belong somewhere, you know?"
Martin nodded, "I get it, kid". He said, "I do. But I'd worry every day about you".
Frankie's lips twitched, "eh?"
"Come on, Frankie. I've been your squad leader for three years almost. You've got a hold on me, kid. I just want you to be safe".
She swallowed, "well, Sarge. When have we ever been safe up-till now?"
Martin nodded, "right – but I had my eyes on you. I won't next time, kid".
Frankie sighed and looked away from him.
…
By the end of May, they moved out to Austria. Easy were sad to leave Germany but that all changed when they drove into Zell am See. It was a town on Lake Zell, south of the city of Salzburg, surrounded by large mountains with snowy peaks and water like blue crystals. This town took their breath away. Battalion was stationed in the Grand Hotel Zell am See, overlooking the lake, while Easy was billeted in a very large house not too far from Battalion on a farm.
Yes, they were quite comfortable in Austria.
The only problem they encountered was the lack of food. They weren't given much and had to gather whatever they found. The locals weren't very helpful, so they ended up with a shit ton of potatoes, and there was only so much you could do with a potato. So, a few of them went off hunting in the woods. Frankie stayed back at the house and peeled potatoes with Webster, which turned into a lot of fun. They ended up having a potato peel fight. Frankie took cover behind the table she had flipped onto its side, while Webster stayed low under a chair.
"You're weak, Frankie!"
"Say that right up my face, I dare you".
Webster laughed, "don't take me as a fool, Hughes!"
Frankie grinned, and looked up from the table. Webster threw a piece of potato skin at her, and it hit her eye. "Ah – fucking hell". She mumbled, taking back her cover. "I'd be dead".
Webster huffed out a quiet laugh, "yeah…".
Frankie frowned, "hey – don't get soft, Web".
"I'm not".
"Right". Rubbing her lips together, she sat up and leaned against the table. "It's alright, Web. I'm not dead".
Webster smiled a little and got back onto his feet, "I know…I can still hear your annoying accent".
Frankie shook her head with a smile, "you're a fucking arse. I should have stayed pissed at you".
"That's right!" He grinned, "you used to hate me".
"Nah – that's a strong word". Frankie got back up, they put the table back. "I was just thingy with you cause you were replacing Alby".
Webster frowned a little.
"You're a good guy, Web". She said to him, "I like you".
He smiled, "good – you're alright".
Frankie slapped his arm, "come on, let's finish this shit up".
When she wasn't having potato wars with Webster, Frankie was back at it with running. It was nice running here, there was a long stretch of road passing the lake and when she first started running, Frankie ran for five-miles and turned back at eight in the morning, running five-miles back, in total, that was ten. Frankie was impressed, she was getting better.
One morning, while she was running back, she spotted Winters walking towards the lake. Frankie didn't notice him at first and ran right passed him.
"Corporal!"
She stopped and turned around, "hello, sir". Frankie saluted him.
Winters smiled and saluted her back, "enjoy your run?"
She nodded, "eh – yeah, sir. Still got two-miles left".
"You're keeping a good routine, Frankie". He said, "see, sports do help, huh?"
Frankie smiled a little, "yeah…you were right to have those try-outs, sir".
Winters gave her a nod, "alright, enjoy the rest of your run".
"Thanks, sir". She said, "eh – enjoy whatever you're doing, sir".
He chuckled, "thank you, Frankie".
On the 6th of June, they held a ceremony for the one-year anniversary since D-day. Everyone was dressed in their best uniform and Spiers yelled out drills, which they hadn't done since Mourmelon but drills, they tended to stay imprinted into your brain for life. It was something every solider learned at the basic training and didn't stop going over. Daily drills, night drills, mid-afternoon drills – it was an important part of being a solider.
"At ease". Spiers told them.
Frankie stood at ease with the rest of Easy.
"General Taylor is aware that many veterans, including Normandy veterans, still do not have the eighty-five points required to be discharged".
Well, Frankie hadn't even checked. It didn't matter, she wasn't leaving.
"On this, the anniversary of D-day, he has authorized a lottery to send one man, or woman, home in each company, effective immediately. For Easy Company, the winner is…". Welsh handed Spiers a slip of paper, with a grin on his face. "Serial number 13066266, Sargent Darrel C Powers". Spiers sounded like he was doing a radio announcement when he said Shifty's second name, which made her smile. And everyone cheered, happy a Toccoa guy was going home.
"That's how it's done, Shifty!" Luz cheered, with a whistle.
"Sargent Grant will see to it that 2nd Platoon takes over at the crossroads check point beginning tonight at 2200 hours". Spiers continued when the cheering stopped. "General Taylor has also announced that the 101st airborne division will definitely be redeployed to the Pacific. So, beginning tomorrow at 0600 hours, we will begin training to go to war".
When the ceremony ended, everyone started to wish Shifty goodbye. Despite the news of dropping into another war, they were happy for their friend.
"Goodbye, Shifty". Frankie shook his hand, "good luck".
Smiling, Shifty crouched down a little and kissed her cheek. "It's been a pleasure, Frankie".
Her eyes widened, Shifty and the others grinned. "Bye, Shifty".
Well, now they had to get back into training once more.
Frankie got up at five the next morning and woke everyone else up. They didn't like her that morning but thanked her for getting them up eventually. For the first time during a run, Frankie was right at the front with Christenson, their fastest runner and Spiers, who was leading. It was a good feeling, Frankie felt a sense of achievement for the first time in a long time. And when they had to re-group to allow others to catch-up, Frankie stepped up a notch and told some of the new guys to keep going.
"Don't feel sorry for yourself, keep your head up".
Frankie would never forget Lipton telling her the exact same thing.
On that same day, during free time, Frankie spotted Webster running after Liebgott and Sisk, who were headed towards a jeep. This sparked her attention and instead of eavesdropping, she went over to the jeep and gave Liebgott a nod.
"Alright?"
"You're either in or out, Frankie".
She looked up at Webster, who was sitting in the back, with an angry look.
"In". Frankie jumped in beside Webster, Sisk stared the engine and they drove away from town. So, she had no idea where they were going or what they had planned but Frankie only went along because Webster was there, and she didn't like the look on his face.
Forty minutes later, they reached the end of a road. Up on a small hill was a cabin, perched on the edge of a grass verge, overlooking more mountains and the lake. There were sheep, just a few and they were munching away on the grass, though looked a little concerned by their jeep.
"Lieb, I fucking hate this". Webster eventually broke the silence.
"Oh, Jesus Christ". He whispered. "They fingered him. He was in the fucking room, Web. One of those Polacks that was at that slave camp said this is where the guy lives – right here".
Frankie rubbed her lips together. Oh, that's why they were here.
"Which camp?" Webster asked.
"Whichever camp". Liebgott said, sounding stunned that Webster was questioning this. "I'm under direct orders and I'm happy to follow it".
With that being said, Liebgott and Sisk got out of the jeep.
Frankie looked up at Webster, who was sighing.
Eventually, he got out and Frankie followed after him. They both ran to catch-up with Liebgott and Sisk.
"Is this a personal thing, Joe?"
"What?"
"Is this personal to you?" Webster asked.
"No, it's a Goddam order".
"Does Major Winters know about this?"
"It doesn't matter here".
"Oh, the fuck it doesn't!" Webster exclaimed. "What if this guys just a soldier? What if he's an officer with no ties to the SS? What if he's innocent?"
"You know what?" Liebgott spat back, "what if he's a fucking Nazi commandant of a fucking slave camp?" He questioned, they had both stopped walking by this point.
"Which one? Which camp? You don't have any proof!"
"Were you at Landsberg?" Liebgott asked him quietly.
"You know I was". He said.
"You think he's a solider like you and me? A fucking innocent German officer?" Liebgott eyed him up and down, "where the hell have you been for the past three years?"
As soon as they entered the small cabin, Liebgott raised his gun and the man inside dropped whatever he was holding, looking startled. He started to speak German, while Frankie, Sisk and Webster checked the area for other Germans.
"What?" Liebgott asked him, sounding calm.
The German stared to shout.
"Shut up".
Liebgott asked him questions in German, while Frankie walked back into the main room.
"No? Come here, old man". Liebgott grabbed him by the scruff of his jumper. "Don't fucking lie to me". He pushed him down onto the chair and leaned over him. The man was trying to explain something to Liebgott, that Frankie didn't understand. "See what you did to my fucking people!" Liebgott then screamed.
She flinched, Liebgott placed the gun towards the man and she walked out of the cabin with Webster. Frankie took a few steps away from the house, Webster closed the door and stood next to her, bringing out a cigarette. Sisk soon joined them, with a sigh.
"He's guilty". He told them, "Liebgott says so".
"He's probably right". Webster replied shortly.
And they all flinched a little, when a gunshot was fired out from the cabin. The door swung open and the man stumbled out, holding onto his neck. Frankie's eyes widened, where the hell was Liebgott? But to her relief, he followed after him, trying to shoot him but his gun gave up on him. He turned to face the three of them.
"Goddammit son of a bitch. Shoot him".
"No". Webster replied.
"Shoot him!" Liebgott yelled.
"No".
Bang!
They all turned around, Sisk shot him.
The German fell face first on the grassy verge. It was quiet. Tension was high and Liebgott was still breathing heavily. Frankie looked over at him. He was always so quiet, most of the time. She often found Liebgott to be isolated, or happy enough in his own company. Liebgott could be intense but he was one of the best soldiers in Easy because of this.
Frankie stood in front of him and looked up. "Don't do that again".
He pulled a face, "what?" Liebgott asked, breathlessly.
"I thought he – he shot you".
He shook his head. "I'm fine".
Frankie nodded, "okay". She said, "let's go".
Taking a step to the side, she started to walk towards the jeep. The others eventually followed.
When they got back to the house, Frankie told Webster not to mention this.
"He doesn't need the grief". She told him, referring to Liebgott. "He's been through enough".
He nodded with a tiny sigh, "alright, Frankie".
"Frankie!" Lipton soon walked over to her, "you're needed up at the palace".
"Alright, sir".
The Palace, also known as Battalion, it was her first trip to the Palace and Frankie wasn't let down. The hotel was fit for the King. She was mesmerized by the get go, her head was tilted up, while she admired the high ceilings and marbled surroundings.
"Frankie". Lipton smiled a little, "through here, buddy".
She nodded and lowered her head, following Lipton towards a room.
"I'll wait here".
Frowning a little, Frankie opened the door and walked into a large and open longue. It was white, made out of more marble. The three-piece sweet was red velvet, facing a very large fireplace, which was bigger than ten of her combined. Where the hell was, she?
"Corporal Hughes".
Straightening herself up, Frankie soon saluted Winters and Spiers.
"At ease". Winters said to her, "Captain Spiers?"
The Captain walked towards her, "Hughes, we need to talk".
She nodded, "alright, sir".
"You have enough points to go home". He told her.
"I didn't know, sir". Frankie told him, with a shake of her head. "I never checked".
"You 'wanna stay". Spiers stated. "That's fine".
She nodded, "that's good, sir".
"However". He said, "in order for you to stay, I'm 'gonna need to promote you".
Frankie looked towards Winters, who had a small smile on his face.
"We need more Sargent's to help train the new guys". Spiers explained, "and good squad leaders, Hughes. It would be foolish not to promote you".
She looked back up at him, "okay, sir".
His lips twitched, "good". Spiers cleared his throat, "well then, congratulations, Sargent".
Frankie smiled a little and saluted him. "Thank you, sir".
He ended up shaking her hand. "You've earned this, Frankie".
Her friends were happy for her, Frankie did feel better about the promotion. Though sad that she wouldn't be in Martin's squad anymore.
"Ah, kid". Martin wrapped an arm around her, "I had to let you go at some point, huh?"
"You're still my Sarge". She told him quietly, "doesn't change anything".
…
"You're sure now?"
"Yes. Get in the fucking jeep, Web".
Shrugging, Webster hopped into the front seat of the jeep.
Smiling, Frankie started the engine and reversed.
"Wait!"
"Oh, Jesus". She pressed down on the break.
Martin walked over to her, "you be careful, you hear?"
"Yup". Frankie mumbled, "loud and clear".
He set her a firm stare, "I'm serious, Frankie".
"Alright". She whispered, "I'll be careful, okay? Web's here, it's fine".
Webster nodded, "I'll keep an eye on her, Sargent Martin".
Sighing, he nodded. "straight back, alright?"
"Straight back, Sarge". Frankie promised him, before she resumed to reverse out from the drive way. "He's 'gonna give himself a heart-attack".
Webster smiled, "he cares about you, Frankie. That's all".
Frankie began to drive down the road, "yeah…Sarge is great".
"He is, yeah". He agreed, "fucking hated me when I got back".
She smiled lazily, "yeah, you're right".
Webster chuckled, "you don't hold back, huh?"
Frankie shook her head with a sigh. "I love stirring the pot, man".
"So…how's the new rank treating you?"
"Alright". She mumbled, "squads fine. Think they're like twelve years old or something".
He grinned, "sure feels that way, huh?"
"I've been trying to teach them how to be sneaky and that, eh? But they get too fucking excited and end up jumping out, thinking they're right wee killers".
"Were we ever like that?"
Frankie huffed, "nah – just Sobel".
Webster smiled, "only ever met him twice".
"Great guy". She muttered, "miss him loads".
He chuckled, "right".
"I never yell at them". Frankie said.
Webster shrugged, "wouldn't hurt to try".
"Would hurt my throat".
He grinned, "and their ears".
"Exactly".
Frankie stopped the jeep at the side of the road, "I'll pick you up in two hours".
Webster grinned, "if Sargent Martin let's you, Frankie".
"Hey, Webster! My relief!" Janovec stated brightly.
Webster got out of the jeep, "don't salute the Germans".
Frankie snorted and shook her head. After a few moments, Janovec walked over to her.
"Eighty-one!" Webster called to him.
"Huh?"
"I have eighty-one points".
Janovec laughed, while Frankie drove the jeep forward. "Well, it's just not good enough!"
She smiled and nudged his arm, "pipe it down, mate. You only have seventy-five".
"What about you, Sarge?"
"Ah – I'm over my limit".
"Seriously?!"
Frankie nodded, "love me the army I do".
Janovec shook his head, "you're crazy, Sarge".
It was a horrible road really, filled with pop holes from the bad winter. Frankie kept to the side, allowing the larger trucks to get past. While driving, one of the trucks dipped into a hole and a barrel from the back landed in front of the jeep. Janovec's eyes widened, Frankie swerved to the side to avoid it, though perhaps went a little too harsh. The jeep went over the side. It was terrifying, Frankie quickly managed to cover her head, while the jeep went upside down and they crashed into the ditch on the side of the road.
The noise was loud and didn't sound good, Frankie had wrecked the jeep. And she was stuck because they were upside down. As if by some miracle, her helmet had stayed on during the crash and her worst injury came from her legs, she could see a piece of metal sticking into her thigh. It was in deep enough to hurt but not enough to cause any long-lasting damage; she hoped. Slowly, she turned her head towards Janovec, who hadn't uttered a single word. His helmet did fall off and his head was smashed in from the side.
"Oh, fuck…". Frankie whispered, voice shaking.
"Frankie!" Webster yelled.
It was like she couldn't hear Webster, because her heart was beating so loudly, that it almost deafened her. A hand managed to creep its way towards her shoulder and Frankie quickly turned her head around, meeting Webster's concerned stare.
"Frankie, you're fine". He told her firmly, "we're 'gonna get you both out of there".
She then turned towards Janovec and reached over, placing two fingers on his neck, trying to search for a pulse. "It's weak".
"Okay, I've got someone coming down". He told her. "Can you get out?"
"No". She said, "we're stuck".
"Right…not for long, alright?" Webster told her, "Frankie?"
Frankie managed to tear a piece of jacket off with her teeth. She pressed the fabric onto the side of Janovec's face. "Okay". Frankie whispered, "Jan? Wake up, it's alright". She called out to him.
Webster took in a shaky breath, "Frankie, is he-"
"no". She responded, "he's not, he's alive".
"What about you?"
"Something stuck in my leg". Frankie mumbled, "when they get us out, it'll come out with it".
Webster nodded, "okay, but we're 'gonna get you out, alright?"
"Yup – I know".
The German officer who was on duty, soon came over. "What's the situation?"
Webster looked up from his crouched position, "jeeps stuck".
"Then we will pull it off them". He said, "hold on. I will get a truck".
Frankie looked over at Webster, "what's that?"
"The officer is 'gonna get a truck, they'll pull the jeep off". He explained, "are you okay, Frankie?"
She nodded, "fine – someone's coming, right?"
"Yeah, I radioed CP". He told her, "couple of medics, Spiers".
Frankie nodded again and looked back over at Janovec, "right".
The German officer had tied a rope to the front of the jeep and a truck would drive off from behind. Webster told her to brace, Frankie wrapped her arms around Janovec and placed his head into her chest. When the jeep started to move up, the piece of metal in her leg went along with it, the pain was horrible but the jeep moving, and the truck's engine blocked out her tiny scream from the pain. Once it was out, Frankie's shoulders dropped in relief. However, they both fell onto the ground shortly after, Frankie made sure Janovec's head stayed against her chest.
It wasn't long before Spiers and a medic arrived. Frankie told the medic to grab Janovec, while she wrapped her jacket above her wound, to stop it from bleeding out. Spiers ended up carrying her towards the jeep and sat down next to her, with Webster sitting in the front. Frankie gritted her teeth and placed a hand above her wound.
"You're 'gonna be fine, Frankie". Spiers told her.
"Right, sir".
When they reached the Palace, an ambulance was waiting for them. But it also marked Janovec's time of death, who unfortunately lost his life along the way. Frankie and Webster were both gutted. Winters came rushing over to them, while Webster helped the medic place Janovec into the back of the ambulance. Frankie was sitting down on the jeep still, staring at the ground, with her head in her hands. Gene arrived on the scene. He cleaned and bandaged her leg. Frankie was going to be off from training for a few weeks it seemed.
So, she hobbled back to the farm that afternoon with Webster.
"Jesus". Luz whispered, "are you alright, Frank-O?"
Frankie nodded and moved over to the couch, taking a seat. "Jan's dead".
"We heard". Grant whispered, "that's another from our Platoon".
And now that the shock had left Frankie, all she could feel now was a burning pain of guilt.
Without the focus of exercise, it was hard to ignore.
And soon, Frankie found herself waking up the middle of the night from nightmares.
They were always the same. Janovec's face before the crash. And the conversation they had before. He was so happy, everything was normal, as it should have been. Frankie was tired most of the day, she probably looked a mess. Sleep was something she dreaded each night. So, she tried to stay awake and avoid it at all costs. Because Frankie was out of training until her leg healed, she helped Floyd out with 1st Sargent duties and handed her squad over to Martin for the time being. This went on for too long and it had only been a week since the crash.
"Let's take a look".
Currently, Frankie was sitting on a table, wearing her shorts. Gene needed to check the wound.
Carefully, he took off the bandage, "it's looking good, Frankie".
She wasn't looking. "Yeah?"
"Yup". Gene told her softly, "the skins starting to heal".
"Great".
He looked at her, "you don't 'wanna see?"
"Not really". She said quietly, "I'll take your word for it".
Gene began to wipe the wound down, "how are you sleeping, Frankie?"
"How?"
"You just look a little tired". He pointed out.
Frankie shrugged, "I'm fine".
Gene shook his head, "Frankie, I'm a medic. I've heard it all before".
Sighing, she looked up towards the ceiling.
"Nightmares, right?"
"Right".
Gene started to wrap a new bandage around her leg. "And you're skipping sleep. You 'gotta talk to someone about it, Frankie". He told her softly, "it'll just eat you up and you'll lose focus".
Once Frankie's leg was sorted out, she got down from the table and headed back into her room. Where she spent most of her time, when she wasn't helping Floyd. Most of the guys were still out doing training, Frankie missed it a lot. Spiers had even offered her an early discharge, she declined the offer, her leg would heal up soon.
But it wasn't helping the healing process being inside her room.
Frankie slipped on her jacket and walked outside the house. The sun was shining, and the day was glorious. Taking in a deep breath Frankie started to make her way down the path and towards the lake. She could see the guys running down the path by the lake, where she used to spend every morning running ten-miles. The urge to join them was strong but Frankie knew it would worsen her wound. It was going to take at least another week or so before she was back at running again.
So, what could she do?
Frankie took off her jacket, exposing her Toccoa shirt underneath. She slipped off her boots and walked to the edge of the dock. The water sparkling under the sun, like blue crystals. Frankie stared out towards the water for a few moments before she caved in and dove. She crashed into the warmth, skin wrapped like blanket. Her feet pushed against the end and she reached the surface, with a long exhale.
Frankie swam, a basic front crawl.
This was good for her, the water felt soothing against her leg.
She should have done this sooner.
Frankie dedicated the next week to swimming. Not only did it help with her leg, but the nightmares eased off the more she exercised. No one told her to do this, Gene just offered her a little nudge out of the door and Frankie could see an end to this dark tunnel. At the end of each swimming session, Frankie would sit on the edge of the dock, with a towel wrapped around her. She would think about Janovec sometimes and feel that guilt itch away at her skin. It was hard to let go of, especially when she saw Malarkey or Grant almost every day, reminding her that she had gotten one of their guys killed.
The guilt was the only thing holding her back.
"Thought you'd be here".
Frankie looked up and watched while Webster sat down next to her.
"Have a good swim?"
"Yeah". She whispered, "training done?"
Webster nodded, "your squad miss you". He said, "you must have done something right".
Nodding a little, Frankie faced the water again.
He frowned at her, "Frankie…it wasn't your fault".
Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath.
"I know it's hard, Frankie".
She shook her head and rubbed the back of her neck, "it's a bit, yeah".
Webster placed a hand on her shoulder, "come back to us, huh? We miss you. Sargent Martin is beside himself with worry".
Frankie opened her eyes, "he shouldn't he – he doesn't have to worry about me". She said, "I'm alright, it's just weird sometimes".
"What is?"
She looked at him, "just thinking and that, you know?"
Webster nodded, "yeah…I think about them too, Frankie".
She faced the front again, "aye, well – I've been out of training, doesn't help".
"Have you tried running?"
Frankie shook her head.
Smiling a little, Webster got up and took her hand. "Let's give it a go".
Rubbing her lips together, she accepted his hand and was soon on her feet, towel dropping on the dock. They walked towards the path, Frankie let go of his hand. "See you at the finish line, man".
Webster chuckled, "oh, you're on, Frankie!"
Frankie was back at training the next day.
…
"It happens all the time, sir. I try and tell them to stay low, one of them jumps up and acts like a pure fanny".
Spiers snorted, a little amused.
"I 'dunno if they're just excited or that but it's piss annoying, sir". Frankie sighed.
"Well, you just 'gotta give it to 'um straight, Sargent". He told her, "let them know who's boss".
She nodded slowly, "aye…you're right, sir".
Spiers shrugged, "shout at them, that sometimes works".
Frankie huffed, "eh – sir, they're like twice my size. I'd look like a wee ball of fury".
"Better to be a little ball of fury, then something timid like a mouse".
"True".
When they stepped onto the road, Spiers had to quickly pull Frankie back, when a jeep almost ran them both over. He was furious.
"What the hell are you doing, Private?!"
"Sir!" He exclaimed, "Sargent Grants been shot!"
Frankie's eyes widened, "what?" She whispered.
"Doc!" Spiers yelled, knowing the medic was only inside the building.
Floyd and Gene both ran outside, while Frankie and Spiers got into the jeep.
"Crossroads?" Spiers asked the replacement, who nodded.
The four of them raced down towards the crossroads, reaching the scene in only ten minutes. Grant was lying on the road, a replacement by his body. The four of them jumped out of the jeep and ran towards Grant.
"What happened?!" Spiers demanded, crouching next to Grant.
"Some drunk guy shot him".
"Where is he?!"
"He took off, sir".
"He's alive". Gene told them, "gunshot to the head, but – God, he's alive!"
Spiers nodded, "let's move him, come on!"
The drunk trooper had also killed two Germans, a British Major and the driver. They didn't know why he turned on Grant, but it was enough to drive them all insane with rage. There regimental doctor didn't think the Sargent stood a chance of survival, not even with a brain surgeon, so Spiers decided to search the area for one, while Floyd grabbed the rest of Easy to find this drunk idiot and to bring him back alive. Frankie stayed with Spiers and Gene, helping the medic keep Grant as stable as they could, while Spiers knocked on every door in this town. They got directions to find a brain surgeon in Saalfelden. Spiers had him at gun point, this old German surgeon, who still had his nightclothes on, looking calmly at the Captain and telling him quietly to lower his weapon.
"If you're going to shoot me, shoot me". He said to Spiers, "if you're not, put the gun away".
Spiers set him a stare, Frankie couldn't place but he wasn't letting up.
The surgeon looked at Grant, "what happened to him?"
"He was shot in the head". Gene replied.
"Half an hour ago". Spiers added, while the German checked his wound.
"If you want him to live, you'll help me". He said, "first, by putting that away".
Spiers sighed and put his gun away. "Come on, let's go".
"Let me drive". The German said, "we'll get there faster".
Staring at him for a few moments, Spiers eventually got into the other side of the jeep and they were off. Frankie still had a hold of Grant's hand, while she and Gene kept him stable on the back of the jeep. When they arrived at the hospital, Grant was quickly placed on a stretcher and rushed off down the corridor, the three of them followed after their friend. Gene was the only one allowed the enter the operating room, Frankie and Spiers had to wait in a small room, with cheap metal chairs and dull walls.
Rubbing the back of her neck, Frankie eventually leaned against the wall and slid down, until she was sitting on the floor. Spiers took out a cigarette, lit it and sat down next to her.
"Cigarette?"
Sighing, she nodded and took the one from his mouth. Frankie took in a drag and coughed, bloody hell. That didn't go as planned. Spiers snorted, shaking his head.
"First time, huh?"
"Yeah". Frankie handed it back to him.
Spiers placed he cigarette between his lips, "he'll be fine". He said, "Sargent Grant is strong".
She nodded, "yeah, he is". Frankie looked up at him, "you alright, sir?"
"What?"
"Your hands shaking".
Spiers frowned and clenched his hand into a fist. "Fine, Hughes".
Frankie looked away from him.
"What about you?"
"Fine, yeah, sir". Frankie said, "Chuck will survive".
"How can you be so sure?"
She shrugged, "cause you said so, has to be true".
Spiers shook his head with a tiny sigh.
"They'll get him". Frankie mumbled, "probably beat the shit out of him, like but he'll be alive".
"He better".
She rubbed the back of her neck again, "best be keeping him alive, sir". Frankie said, "he should feel guilty for a while".
Spiers nodded slowly.
They sat in silence for a few moments. And Frankie finally realized why she felt comforted that night in Bastogne, when Spiers appeared out of nowhere. The man had a moody face half the time, rarely smiled. He was quiet and hard to figure out. Replacements were often scared of him because of the rumours spread about him. But Spiers wouldn't let you down. He was that guy who would get the job done, right at that moment and would do anything to make things right.
"What?"
Frankie looked away from him.
"God, you and Lipton share some qualities".
She huffed quietly, "I was just thinking, sir". Frankie said, "we're lucky to have you. And Chuck's 'gonna live 'cause you got that German surgeon to come outside, in his fucking jammies".
Spiers looked at her, "you have a way with words, Hughes. You remind me of my family, who are still in Edinburgh".
Frowning, she asked, "you're Scottish?"
"Born in Edinburgh, immigrated to the States when I was four".
"Jesus". She whispered, "didn't know that, sir".
Spiers nodded, "well, now you do".
Frankie blinked and looked towards the door. "Think he's alright, sir?"
He followed her gaze, "he won't feel a thing".
She swallowed, "think Jan did?"
Spiers frowned, "no, I don't think he did".
"Think it was my fault, sir?"
He looked down at her again, shaking his head. "I don't".
Frankie nodded, "alright, sir".
Grant had survived the operation and the three of them made the journey back into town and headed to the farmhouse. Frankie felt a little nervous, wondering that sort of shape this drunk guy would be in when they showed up. And all her friends would be pissed off. Frankie was angry too, but she had never been an aggressive person.
Frankie followed Spiers into the house, Luz and Floyd immediately stood up.
"Where is he?"
"How's Grant?" Floyd asked.
"Where is he?" Spiers asked again.
"Is he okay?"
"Where is he?!"
Frankie closed her eyes for a moment, Spiers yelling was always a little startling. They could hear the others shouting from the next room. Frankie followed Spiers inside the room and saw a guy sitting on a chair, face bleeding and swollen from punches. He didn't look good and neither did her friends.
"Is this him?" Spiers asked.
"That's him". Bull replied, "replacement, I Company".
Frankie looked up at Heffron, who was staring at her. For a tiny moment, his eyes softened. And she gave him a small nod, he sighed quietly, shoulders dropping. Spiers continued to walk over to the replacement.
"Where's the weapon?"
He replacement was wheezing, blood running from his nose and mouth. "What weapon?"
With his gun, Spiers smacked his across the face. "When you talk to an officer, you say, sir".
It was hard to watch, Frankie and some others looked away, facing twitching into a painful grimace. The replacement was beat-up badly but as far as they knew, Grant was dead. Speirs held up his gun and took the safety off, the men standing close to the replacement, took a small step back. Frankie closed her eyes, she didn't want to see this. But after a few minutes of nothing but tense silence, Spiers, hand shaking a little, lowered his weapon and wiped the blood on the replacements uniform from his hand. He took off his cap.
"Have the MP's take care of this piece of shit".
"Grants dead?" Floyd asked quietly, while Spiers walked out of the room.
"No". He replied, "the Kraut surgeon says he's 'gonna make it".
"Hey tough guy, on your feet, move". Liebgott and a few others got the replacement onto his feet and quickly dragged him out of the room, before anyone changed their mind about killing him.
Frankie nodded slowly, while she took in her friends bloodied knuckles. "Alright". She whispered in the quiet room, "get some sleep. It's been a long day. I'll take care of everything".
Martin squeezed her shoulder while he passed. "Thanks, kid".
By everything, Frankie meant cleaning up the room. The room cleared out, Frankie filled up a bucket of warm water and grabbed a cloth and a bar of soap. She walked back into the room, beginning to clean the blood, which was soaked into the wood and the rug. When she finished getting most of the blood off the floor, Frankie walked outside and emptied the bucket onto the road.
"You think I should have shot him?"
Frankie jumped a little and turned around. Spiers was sitting on the steps in front of the farmhouse, staring down at his gun. Swallowing, Frankie wondered over to him.
"No, sir". She said, "I think we've done enough in Europe".
Sighing, Spiers got back onto his feet and put his gun away. "I got enough points to go home".
Frankie blinked and looked up at him.
"I think I'll just stay". Spiers said quietly, "why didn't you go back, Frankie?"
She cleared her throat, "couldn't leave them, sir".
"But that's not all, is it?" He said, bringing out a cigarette.
Frankie shrugged, "no…but it's a good enough reason to stick around".
Spiers stared out towards the dark mountains, surrounding them. Frankie curiously looked over at him, wondering if she should leave or not. The young officer obviously had a lot on his mind. Frankie didn't even take into account of his age, it must have been a lot of responsibility. But then again, Winters was only twenty-seven and he was responsible for seven hundred troopers. Age was weird in war.
"Would you do it again?" Spiers asked her.
"Another war, sir?" Frankie sighed softly, "yeah, I would. For Easy. And for anyone who's brave enough to do it".
"I thought that".
She rubbed the back of her neck, "eh – sir? I'm not really one for good advice".
Spiers snorted, "right…I know".
"But like, if you're 'gonna lead us into the Pacific. Then we'll gladly follow you, sir".
He turned around and looked at her. "That's good to know, Hughes".
"Alright, sir". Frankie nodded, "I'll – eh – I'll see you tomorrow, sir".
"Goodnight, Sargent".
It was a few days after that incident when Malarkey left Easy Company. Winters was sending him to an Airborne exhibition in Paris. Malarkey wouldn't be returning, he was getting a pass out of the ongoing war in the Pacific and everyone was happy because he deserved to go home and live out the rest of his life in peace. And like everyone else, Frankie would miss him.
"I'll be seeing you, Malark".
His smile wavered. "Yeah – come here, Frankie".
Malarkey wrapped her into a tight hug and pressed a kiss on the top of her head. Frankie took in a shaky breath and they pulled apart after a few moments. "Take care, alright? And no more stealing any motorbikes".
He smiled fully this time, "look after them, huh?"
She nodded, "I will, I promise".
Malarkey then moved towards Winters, the Major shook his hand.
"Good luck, son". He said, "it's been a privilege fighting alongside you".
He gave him a firm nod, "thank you, sir".
Frankie had driven them both down that morning. Winters had asked her, it was one-hour drive to the train station, and she figured Winters wanted to see Malarkey off; it was very touching. She leaned against the jeep, watching Malarkey walk into the quiet train station.
"Let's go, trooper". Winters said, "we've got a couple of errands to run".
Frankie nodded, "alright, sir".
"I'll drive".
She smiled a little and got into the passenger seat. "You don't like my driving, sir?"
Winters chuckled, "oh, your driving is fine". He told her, "thought you could enjoy the drive back".
She leaned back against the seat, "what errands, sir?"
"We need to pick up Captain Nixon and Lieutenant Lipton. We're heading to the airbase, it seems the German General refuses to surrender to Private Heffron".
Frankie chuckled softly, "can't imagine why, sir".
"Besides, I think it's time you and I had a little talk".
She frowned, "a talk, sir?"
Winters nodded, "as much as I have respected your previous decisions, Sargent Hughes. Hearing of your future plans makes me uneasy".
Frankie sighed quietly, "did – eh – did Johnny talk to you, sir?"
He smiled a little, "he did…so did Christenson, Captain Spiers and Luz".
"They're not keen on the idea?"
Winters shook his head, "no one is, trooper".
Frankie frowned a little, "it's my future, sir".
"It is, yeah". He agreed quietly, "which is why we don't want to see it end".
"I have no idea where to go, sir". Frankie expressed, "like – I don't have a home. Well, I did but I think it's going to end soon".
Winters was quiet for a moment. "What do you think about New Jersey?"
She pulled a confused face, "New Jersey, sir?"
He nodded, "yeah – they've got a good university, Rutgers. They have an animal science course, you ever thought about working with animals?"
Frankie was still frowning, "alright…but why there?"
Winters shrugged, "that's where me and Captain Nixon are 'gonna stay". He said, "thought you might 'wanna come along with us".
Her frown vanished from her face.
"We're 'gonna work at Nixon Nitration Works. I had to pass the interview first, of course, but he was happy to employ me".
A strange laugh burst from her lips.
Winters smiled, "yeah, a job interview out here, huh? Pretty strange". He then said, "Frankie, you're only eighteen. You joined us at sixteen and none of us want to see you without a home".
Rubbing her lips together, Frankie nodded. "Alright, sir".
"Good". He smiled again.
She cleared her throat, eyes burning. "Yeah – it's good, sir".
After picking up Nixon and Lipton, they drove down towards the airbase. Lipton jumped out from the jeep, while the German General approached them. His heels clicked, he nodded towards Winters, who then gestured at Lipton.
"With your permission, I would like to address my men briefly". The General said to Lipton.
"That would be fine, General".
Frankie was sitting in the back seat of the jeep and when a truck cleared the way, Sobel was soon to pass them. Her eyes widened, almost comically. What the hell was this man doing? He seemed to just pop out at the most random moments. But what made this moment so amazing was Winters saluting him and Sobel pretending he didn't see.
"Captain Sobel".
Sobel nodded, "Major Winters". He continued to walk.
"Captain Sobel". He called out again, Sobel stopped walking. "We salute the rank, not the man".
Frankie could see how much Sobel hated this. He turned to face Winters and saluted him. It was probably the worst three seconds of Sobel's life but the most rewarding for every Toccoa guys life. Frankie smiled and turned to face Winters, who soon faced Nixon, who was shaking his head and trying not to laugh.
Liebgott soon joined them at the jeep, when the General started talking.
"Liebgott?" Winters asked, looking towards the General.
He looked towards the German, "men, it's been a long war. It's been a tough war. You've fought bravely, proudly for your country. You are a special group. You've found in one another a bond…that exists only in the combat among brothers…who've shared foxholes, held each other in dire moments".
Frankie swallowed and reached into her pocket, under her jacket. Fingers soon touching the Edelweiss she had carried since Normandy.
"Who've seen death and suffered together". A smile soon spread on Liebgott's face, "I am proud to have served with each and every one of you. You deserve long and happy lives in peace".
Sighing softly, Frankie watched while Lipton saluted the General and made his way back towards the jeep. She reached over and squeezed Liebgott's shoulder.
"Thanks".
He nodded and touched her hand.
Frankie took off her cap and jumped down from the jeep. Rubbing the back of her neck, she then walked across the grass and up the small embankment. The General looked down at her, very curiously. For a lot of reasons, probably. Frankie cleared her throat and reached into her pocket, taking out the Edelweiss.
"Eh – this doesn't belong to me, sir". Frankie had the flower gently between her fingers.
The General's lips twitched, while he accepted it. He looked at the flower for a moment and then back towards Frankie. "You know why we climb the Alps to collect this flower, Sargent?"
Frankie shook her head.
"Because when you do something brave, you are always rewarded with something beautiful".
She looked back up at him.
"Now, you say this belongs with me". The General said, "I think, it was meant to be with you". He crouched down a little and placed the flower back into her pocket.
Frankie bit down on her lip. He smiled small at her.
"Have a good life, Sargent". The General straightened himself back up and saluted her.
Surprised, she quickly saluted him back. When he ended the salute, Frankie turned back around and walked towards the jeep. That was weird, she thought. But it was always very nice. She reminded herself, he could have kept that flower. But he didn't.
…
Austria was a headcase.
When the Japanese army surrendered on the 2nd of September, not long after Frankie's birthday, they still had to remain in Europe for whatever reasons. Still, the Toccoa guys were finally going home. They had earned enough points but because Frankie had plans for New Jersey, she remained and was soon moving out to France with the rest of the 101st. It wasn't going to be the same without her friends and it was a moment Frankie didn't want to face. But seeing them so happy and glad to be leaving, was enough to settle her down.
It didn't happen all at once but the first Toccoa guy to go was Martin.
He was being discharged early, due to his knees. And Frankie, with the rest, all gathered around him, while he put his bag into a jeep. They shook hands, hugged and Martin admitted he'd miss everyone. Frankie was standing back, chewing on her bottom lip and staring hard at her boots. Her breathing was heavy, and she was trying hard not to act like a total idiot.
"Well, kid".
She raised her head, looking up at him.
"Looks like this is it, huh?" Martin's eyes were shinning. "Tell you what, Frankie. You've been one of the best guys in my squad". He cleared his throat, "I love you, kid".
Frankie swallowed back the lump in her throat, "love you too".
Martin smiled a little, before he brought her into a tight hug.
Frankie pressed her face against his chest, "Sarge, you've pulled me out of a lot of shit".
"You've done the same for me".
"I'm 'gonna miss you a fucking lot".
Martin kissed the top of her head and let out a teary sigh, "I'll miss you too, Frankie". He pulled back and quickly wiped his eyes, "be good for the Major, huh? I'll be checking in from time to time".
She nodded, with a tiny smile. "Promise, Sarge".
"I'll say it again". Martin said to her, "I'm so happy, you were in my squad".
Frankie's smiled wobbled, "me too, Johnny".
When he was about to get on the jeep, Frankie ran towards him.
"Hang on". She whispered, taking the Edelweiss out from her pocket. "You can give me it back when you see me".
Martin let out a deep breath and nodded, "I'll be seeing you, kid".
Frankie took a step back and gave him a nod, the jeep engine started and they moved down the road. She walked onto the road and watched the jeep, not looking away until it disappeared around the corner. Frankie lowered her head and closed her eyes. Running a hand down her face, she felt her chest tighten and a soft sob burst out from her lips. She covered her eyes, crying quietly into the palm of her hands.
"It's alright".
Arms were soon wrapped around her.
"Take it easy, you're okay".
Frankie rested her head against Luz's chest and let out a choked sigh.
"Yeah…we'll miss him too, Frank-O". He mumbled, "but we 'gotta be happy for the guy, huh?"
Sniffing, she nodded.
Luz smiled small, "good, glad you understand".
Frankie never wanted to say goodbye to any of her friends. But this sort of goodbye was different; it wasn't permanent. She would see them again, Frankie knew that. For everything she had been through, she had gone through with Easy. And though they had lost so many friends along the way, Frankie promised to cherish the ones who made it home as well as the ones who were buried under snow and mud.
Her time in Easy Company had been the best thing to ever happen to her.
Frankie was going to miss waking up and seeing her Toccoa brothers.
But at least she'd be with two of them.
"You ready?" Winters asked her.
Frankie was sitting in an almost empty farmhouse.
"Nervous?"
"Nah – you?"
"Nope".
She smiled a little and got up, "ready, sir".