Fabulous Betas: FandomlyCroft, Laura001 and Atman
Last Time: Easy Company jumped out of an airplane and landed in Normandy.
Now: Easy Company gets to work.
"You can conquer almost any fear if you will only make up your mind to do so. For remember, fear doesn't exist anywhere except in the mind." – Dale Carnegie.
-Chapter 11-
They made their way, single file, up the hedgerow towards the guns. Eve's heart was pounding, and she could barely breathe for the fear suffocating her. She found some cover and crouched down with Lip, Ranney, and Lorraine behind the shrubbery, waiting for Winters to finish dolling out his last minute orders to the other squad.
She sat down and just tried to breathe, trying to focus. She'd done this before. This was just like training – with live bullets – and death as a consequence if she failed.
Jesus Christ. Okay, just remember the facts. We've done this before. All I have to do is follow Winters. I can do this. I can do this. Let's go over it once more, she thought, trying to get a grip on herself.
Her job was to stick with Winters, which meant, initially, they were going to provide covering fire and a very nice target for the machine gun position that she could see just on the other side of her cover. The Krauts wandered about in the open without a care, safe in the knowledge that they were behind their front lines. Apparently they hadn't been informed that their front line had just gained a lot of holes due to the paratroopers bringing the fight inland.
Winters waved Lipton over. "Take Ranney, envelop right, give covering fire." He used a gun blast to cover his next order, "Lorraine, Buchanan on the machine gun!"
Eve ducked forward with Lorraine to get a good view of the machine gun nest, perched between a tree and a rusted truck. She spent several careful moments lining up her sight on the A Gunner and then waited for the signal.
Winters continued to give Lipton and Ranney orders while he watched Compton and his squad set up for the assault. "Don't give away your position until you have to. I want that TNT as soon as you see we've captured the first gun. Go!"
"Yes, sir," said Lip, already leaving.
Winters waited a moment before signaling to Compton to move. He joined Eve and Lorraine in the shrubbery and signaled for Liebgott and Petty on the machine gun to start shooting.
The Germans started screaming. Within moments, they'd mounted a counter assault. Balls of lead peppered the embankment hiding the American's. Dirt and snapped branches flew everywhere, smacking into Eve's helmet and jabbing into her back as they fell from the trees above. She flinched away from the sharp assault, and missed her shot. She reset with a quiet curse, and pulled off another round. She watched the trace of the bullet arc through the air; pinging the gunner in the helmet and sending him down.
On the other side of the field, Compton led his squad of Malarkey and Guarnere for the initial assault on the trenches.
Eve desperately hoped the gunfire was distracting the Germans enough that they wouldn't notice the other squad. Bullets bounced in the dirt and trees around them spraying debris as they exploded in the ground. The roar of the machine guns was louder than Eve could ever have believed without experiencing it. Training, even with live rounds, had nothing on the sheer volume of actual combat. And she was going through ammo at a ridiculous rate, reloading with trembling hands, each second wasted trying to reload was the one that would get her killed.
She heard Winters say, "Come on, Buck," next to her as they ducked down under the intense machine gun fire. The return fire was too heavy. Eve couldn't line up another shot. She'd given up on aiming and accuracy, there was no time to waste picking out each and every shot. She just fired her rifle towards the enemy and hoped for the best.
After minutes that felt like hours, Winters saw what he was waiting for and called: "Let's go! Let's go! Follow me!"
He led the assault team, tearing from the hedgerows towards the trench, bullets bouncing off the ground in front of him. He made it into the trench, Toye and Eve on his heels, startling the gun crew there so much that they fled along with a lot of the remaining infantry down the trench and across the field, away from Easy Company.
Popeye fell head first into the trench, screaming, "Ah fuck!"
Eve, recovering from her jump, centered her gravity and started shooting at the fleeing Krauts; aiming for the torso as the biggest target. She saw several go down, but couldn't tell if it was her shots or Toye's, or Winters's – not that it mattered. When Eve's target dropped she moved to the next one, there were several to choose from.
They met Compton's group at the gun, adding rifle fire to the grenades peppering the retreating Germans. Compton threw a grenade at a moving Kraut, hitting him square in the back as it exploded. That's one hell of an arm, Eve thought and popped off another Kraut.
"I'm sorry, sir!" she heard Popeye say, over and over.
She was too busy reloading to help. She heard Lorraine whimper and squeeze off several rounds trying to hit one of the few remaining Krauts in the open.
"Jesus Christ," snarled Guarnere, watching Lorraine waste four bullets without managing to hit the man. He pulled up his carbine and shot a controlled burst that struck the Kraut square in the back as Eve shot him in the head.
"Fucking jeep jockey," Guarnere growled at Lorraine as he passed the poor fellow, who had to reload before he could follow them to the staging area around the big gun.
Eve followed the Italian, and saw Toye, tending to Popeye, who was lying on his stomach and still cursing. "Shit! I'm sorry, sir, I screwed up!"
She heard a German scream and whirled. Winters put the man down.
A German potato-masher sailed into the trench, landing about a foot away from Joe Toye's feet.
Winters yelled a warning, "Grenade! Joe! Toye! Roll out! Roll out!"
Toye fell forward onto the injured Popeye, making him scream in agony as the blast rocked the trench.
Eve held up an arm as soft earth mixed with molten shrapnel splashed into her.
"Get off!" Popeye screamed, his agony plain.
Toye wasn't moving.
Compton rushed towards the two downed men, but Guarnere and Eve could only stare in horror.
Toye sat up.
He smoothed a hand down his front, tugging on himself to make sure that everything important was in place. He picked up his ruined rifle.
Somehow, Toye had managed to get his gun down fast enough that the stock of the gun exploded rather than his balls.
Guarnere and Eve witnessed his relief, Guarnere saying, "One lucky bastard, Joe!" before going back to picking off Germans.
Winters headed up the trench for the second gun, shouting: "Guarnere, Malarkey, Lorraine, secure that gun!"
He started running forward up the trench for the second gun. "Compton, covering fire! Buchanan, on me!"
She ceased firing on the German machine gun post and ducked after him.
Easy's movements were confined to the trench system. Bullets cut across the top of the trench in an unending stream of enemy fire. The German's further up the trench from the other guns were going to wage a counterattack soon; they were possibly setting up an ambush right now. They needed to cut that attack off at the source, right now, or Easy would be in the center of a shitstorm.
Winters led Eve to a connecting trench. He paused at the corner.
Eve plastered herself to the wall next to him, waiting for instructions.
Winters gave her a nod, verifying that she was set in place for whatever was around the corner.
She gave him a short nod back. She was ready.
Winters took a breath to steel himself. He snuck a glance around the bend.
He used a few, brisk, hand movements to convey the situation to Eve.
Two Krauts, setting up a machine gun.
If they succeeded, they would turn the next trench into a kill-box. Easy Company would be slaughtered, right here.
Eve would take the one on the left.
She nodded, and slid down so she wouldn't get in Winters's way.
He gave a three count. On one, she whipped around the corner and fired, pulling back immediately after squeezing the trigger.
Winters hit the A gunner in the hip, and Eve caught the second gunner in the shoulder. That was all they had time for as Winters pulled back to check on the rest of the squad. They'd deal with the possible future ambush once their position was secure.
Winters gave the signal to pull in Petty and Liebgott and their machine gun to set up a new base of fire.
Without further prompting, Eve went back to peppering the Germans with suppressing fire as she followed Winters slowly back up the trench to the first gun.
Popeye was still on the ground and still apologizing over and over for fucking up.
Winters and Compton helped the man get over the back of the trench so he could crawl his way back to the rear and get some aid for his wounded backside.
Where the hell is Lipton with that TNT?she thought as the Germans opened up again, forcing her back down for cover. They needed to blow the gun already and move on.
Buck, under MG fire, pulled another pin on a grenade to throw at the fleeing Germans, but someone bumped him and he fumbled it, losing track of it in the trench.
"Grenade!" he screamed. He and Winters popped out of the trench lickety-split. Toye and Eve didn't have enough time to process what was going on, and scrambled to get out of the trench.
Eve managed it, but the grenade blew Toye back into the trench.
"Toye!" Buck screamed, rolling back into the trench.
Eve scrambled up from the sprawl the blast had pushed her into, praying Toye was alright.
"Jesus Christ," Toye said, spitting out the dirt that the blast had showered on his face.
Just dirt, thought Eve, running her eyes over the man. Thank God.
"Fucking twice," Toye growled.
Winters checked Eve over as she did a once over herself. Her adrenaline was pumping so hard she didn't think she'd even feel a wound if it happened to her until she fainted from blood loss. She wasn't injured though, so she found her gun and helmet where they'd flown free of her and kept moving.
Winters and Compton scouted the second gun.
"Grenades first," Winters ordered. "Then keep going."
"Got it," said Buck. He moved out on Winters's cue, under a hail of fire.
Compton and Toye launched their grenades into the gun position, managing to time them going off just before Winters and Eve burst into the area. Most of the gun crew fled, the braver men were shot as they reached for weapons, but there was a soldier who, instead of retreating, threw his hands up into the air screaming, "No make dead! Nicht schieβen!"
"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Toye screamed in reply, a note of hysteria in his voice. The Kraut obviously didn't understand because he just kept repeating his pleas. Toye belted him with his brass knuckles. He went down with what was likely a broken jaw.
Toye stared at the man, unsure if that had been the right call, but Winters just gave him a pat on the shoulder and moved behind the cover of the gun.
"Stay down, Buchanan! Toye! Stay down! Stay down!" Buck shouted as they shot at the second gun's fleeing crew. Eve was firing on instinct now, just like she would at multiple skeet, confident that her shots would hit and so not bothering to pay the downed targets further mind once she'd fired.
"Compton!" screamed Winters.
"Alright, cover for me," said Buck, pulling back from the embankment to Winters position.
"Must be doing something right! Look!" said Winters, pointing at the machine gun positions that had been peppering them all day. "We've got 'em so confused they're firing on the third gun!"
"We'd better blow this thing before they figure out what the hell's happened, then!" he said, grinning.
"I'm gonna go see what's keeping Lipton," said Winters with a smack to Bucks arm. "Buchanan! With me!"
"Toye!" called Compton, "Covering fire!"
Eve followed Winters back up the trench, flinching under the whining whiz of bullets racing over her head.
Liebgott and Petty pulled forward to re-setup their machine gun at the first gun's position, hooking up with Malarkey, Guarnere, and Lorraine.
"I think one of those dead Krauts has a Luger!" screamed Malarkey from ahead of them.
"Keep your head low, Petty!" ordered Liebgott, "Come on, move it!" Dirt showered them as they made it over the sandbags to the relative safety of the gun. "How 'bout a little suppressing fire why don't cha!" he barked at Malarkey, who was staring out at the open field.
"Malarkey!" screamed Guarnere, trying to snap the man out of it.
It was no use.
Eve watched in horror as Malarkey popped out from behind cover, racing towards a downed German, and the pouch at his side.
Winters started yelling at the foolish redhead, pouring on more speed. The trench suddenly seemed so much longer than it had when he'd led Eve towards the second gun.
"Goddamn it!" said Eve, her eyes fixed on Malarkey, waiting for him to be killed in front of her. It was on the edge of every heart beat.
The guns stopped. An odd lull took over the field as both sides waited to see what the redhead would do.
"Now you stop firing?" Liebgott said, still shouting despite the sudden lack of sound. "Beautiful."
"Christ, they must think he's a medic or something!" cried Petty.
Evidently, that was true since the Kraut weren't firing at him at all; until he started running his Irish butt back to their lines at Liebgott's prompting cry of: "Malarkey!"
Eve watched as somehow, Malarkey managed to dodge all the shit they shot at him and got back to cover without getting wounded. Either the Krauts had terrible aim or Malarkey had some kind of angel on his shoulder.
As soon as he made it back, Petty, Liebgott and Guarnere opened fire on the Kraut machine gun positions again.
"Got your freaking Luger?" snapped Guarnere between his gun bursts so Malarkey could hear him, "Want I should go get it for ya, ya stupid Mick?"
Winters hit the dirt beside the newly returned Malarkey, Eve only a beat behind him. "Where's Lipton with that TNT?" Winters asked Guarnere with a slap to his shoulder.
"Don't know, sir!" answered Guarnere, reloading.
They had no choice but to hold the position and wait for him. Eve was getting worried. She was running dangerously low on ammo, which was ridiculous considering the massive amount she'd brought. Where the hell did it all fucking go?
Two new faces joined them in the gun position. One had a Captain's bars, and the other was the trooper Winters had managed to land with, Hall.
"Hiya, Cowboy!" called Guarnere noticing them first.
"Shut your fucking Guinea trap, Gonorrhea!" said Hall.
"He's alright, that kid," Guarnere informed Malarkey with a pleased grin on his face.
"Jesus, you got a whole Kraut Platoon out there!" said the Captain.
Hester,Eve remembered at a glance.
"Probably more, Captain," agreed Winters.
"Need help?" asked Hester.
"I need ammo, sir! Lots of it!" shouted Winters to be heard over the fire. He had to duck his face against the dirt as a sudden machine gun burst shattered ricochets off the gun's armor and into the dirt around them. "And TNT!"
Eve, finally having found more ammo for her gun and reloading it, leaned around Winters to fire on the machine gun muzzle flashes.
"I've got TNT, sir!" said Hall, pulling forward a bag of it.
"Good job, Private!" called Winters and he gave him the okay to shove some down the gun barrel.
Hester, having gotten an understanding of the situation, headed back to battalion to find some reinforcements and ammo for Easy.
Hall had the TNT but no way to set it off. Winters dropped the ordinance down the barrel of the gun before scrounging a German potato masher and sending it off down the barrel as well.
"Fire in the hole!" he screamed.
The guys all piled together, with Winters managing to cover Eve's body with his own, his arm protecting her neck. They only waited a second before the breech of the gun blew out.
Winters ordered Plesha to give covering fire on the third gun from his position. He had Lorraine grab more of the potato mashers, and had Eve, Hall and Malarkey follow him up the trench to the second gun up the line with Buchanan again on his six.
Eve didn't stop firing as she moved down the trench, following Winters's lead in taking opportune moments to hammer the retreating and fortified Germans, spitting out what dirt managed to land in her mouth as she was running from machine gun bullets.
They reached the second gun with Compton and Toye still holding the position, fortified behind the gun.
Compton turned back to greet them with: "Running a little low on ammo, sir!"
"How 'bout you, Malarkey?" Winters asked.
"Okay," replied Malark.
Winters thought about it for only half a second before tapping Compton on the shoulder. "Think you got enough to take the third gun?"
"We'll soon find out, Dick," said Buck with a grin. "Malarkey, let's go! Toye, cover!"
Winters had Hall follow them, "Keep your head down!" he offered as the man ran by him. "Hall!" he remembered. "Leave your TNT!"
Hall left the bag with the TNT and the potato mashers he'd grabbed and followed Compton and Malarkey along the trench to the third gun.
Winters fell on Eve again as he called, "Fire in the hole!" to protect her from shrapnel. He settled next to her and they watched Buck and Malarkey take the third gun. It seemed like only moments before Buck was signaling that they had the gun secured.
"Buchanan, with me!" he called as he scooped up the TNT bag. They headed for the third gun.
When they reached what was obviously the German command center, they found Hall.
He was lying face down but his neck was bent at a near ninety degrees, his large brown eyes staring blankly up at them.
Wounds peppered his face and jaw.
Winters sank to the ground and waved a hand in front of the man's eyes, hoping that he was just in shock, that he would track the movement.
No luck.
He was gone.
Winters took a deep breath, biting back a curse.
Eve reached out to touch his arm, trying to give him a sense that he was not alone.
He stared at her, a kind of hopelessness entering his eyes.
She gripped his sleeve and shook her head. There was nothing they could do.
A blast from one of the remaining guns snapped him out of it.
"Let's go," he said, and they moved on.
After he'd blasted the third gun with Hall's TNT calling "Fire in the hole!" Winters followed the sound of German voices and found a desk laid out with documents and maps. He didn't know what they were maps of exactly, but the points on them must be significant in some way. Nix would probably want it. He folded them up and tucked them into his jacket before going back to help provide cover for the third gun.
They were still sitting on the third gun, prepping to launch the attack on the last gun with their now paltry supplies, when Lieutenant Ronald Speirs of D Company and those few of his company who had made it to the assembly area joined them.
He was covered in extra ammo; which Winters was more than happy to relieve him of.
"Winters!" greeted Speirs. "Hester said you needed ammo!"
Speirs handed the bag holding the spare cartridges off. Winters distributed it to Malarkey and Eve after only a moment of processing the laden Lieutenant in front of him.
"Mind if D Company takes a shot at the next gun?" Speirs asked.
"All yours!" called Winters.
"Let's go, Dog Company!" Speirs shouted as he vaulted over the gun Winters was using for cover and ran towards the last gun.
A soldier behind him called, "Up and at 'em D Company!" as they passed.
Eve watched them go, before remembering to provide them with covering fire and pay attention to what she was supposed to be doing.
"Compton!" called Winters, ducking to the camouflaged embankment to watch.
"Who is that?" asked Compton, "Speirs?"
Winters and Compton watched with some bafflement as Speirs hopped out of the trench to gain a high ground advantage, shocked at his audacity.
"What is he doin' out of the trench?" Winters asked.
"Oh, what the hell's he doin'?" asked Buck, watching.
Somehow, Speirs managed to lead his company on an attack of the final gun, which he took and destroyed losing only two men.
"Oh, Jesus," said Buck, pulling back.
Lip finally caught up with them. He landed next to Winters, pulling out his TNT.
"Sir," he gasped, trying to catch his breath. "I had a little trouble getting through that first field."
Winters just pointed at the destroyed gun barrel. Lip followed his finger and sagged in disappointment. "They're going to need it up at the next gun," said Winters. Lip nodded. "Once it's blown, tell 'em to pull out. Go!"
Lip went.
Winters led Eve and Compton back up the trench telling the men to pull out as he came across them. They were still taking heavy machine gun fire from the hedge line near Brecourt Manor, and with the guns destroyed there was no real point in holding the trench.
They reached the first gun. Winters patted the still firing men on the back as he passed them telling them: "Move out! Move out! Move it out!" He got to the end of their line, to Liebgott and Petty on the machine gun. "MGs first!" he called.
Eve fell on the line next to Guarnere and started firing off the rounds she had left.
"Everyone! Maintain your base of fire," Winters ordered. It was so the machine gunners would have time to pull apart their guns and duck back to their original position.
Once they were finished and ready to move, Winters said. "Okay, back to Battalion! Go! Go!"
What was left of Easy Company leapt out of the trench and ran back across the open field towards their assembly area and Battalion HQ.
Eve was second to last out of the hole. Winters made sure she and the rest were out before he was. As he was leaving he caught sight of a Gerry carrying a MG ready to flank them.
He shot him clean through the head without a thought. He kept moving, staying low to avoid the still heavy machine gun fire from the rear.
Eve didn't slow down until the assembly area was in sight, but once it was, she stopped to wait for her trialing Lieutenant to catch up.
He smiled at her. "You did good, Sergeant," he said.
Eve's brain froze even as her feet kept her moving forward. Really, she wondered. As good as the men? He'd kept her with him the whole time, had he been that unsure of her? She didn't have the courage to ask. Instead, she said, "Just like training, sir."
"Just like training," he agreed with a nod. They walked a few further steps when he spoke again, "I'm glad you're with us, Eve."
Eve stared at him. She didn't have an answer for that. It didn't really matter. Lieutenant Nixon came jogging over to flag Winters down. Nix would probably know what to do with the map Winters found.
Eve watched them go, feeling oddly invincible and like she was about to shatter into pieces all at the same time. She decided to put everything to the side, and go find some chow; she was hungry enough to eat dirt, after all, but it would also keep her mind off things.
XxX
She learned later that the final tally for the mission was relatively low. They had four dead, including the two from Dog Company, the poor sap from Battalion HQ who'd been lost in the field, and Hall. Then there were their two wounded, one of which was Popeye.
In return, they killed fifteen Germans, wounded many more, and took twelve prisoners, completely wiping out the fifty-man platoon of Germans defending the guns. They'd fought like a team, without standout stars, like the well-oiled-machine they'd trained to be. Most importantly they'd gotten the job done. It went better than Eve could have ever dreamed. She'd finally had her chance and proven that she was just as good in a fight as any of the boys.
She knew that it wouldn't erase all the prejudices amongst the men, but it was a good start.
She also learned about Nix's very impressive day. Apparently, after he'd gotten the map from Winters, a map he'd quickly realized had all the German gun positions in Normandy on it, he'd run the thing all the way down to the beach, all three miles, where it was rowed out to the heavy guns on the battleships. In exchange, he received a very nice present of the tanks that were sitting on Utah beach waiting to be put to use. They'd agreed to head up with Nix to get what they could done up at the 506th's assembly area, so he rode back into camp in style.
XxX
Eve walked into the Aid Station, looking for Roe. She hadn't seen him since they'd left for Brecourt, hours ago. If his night had been anything like hers, he wouldn't have eaten anything either. So here she was, ready to drag him off for a break.
There were men laying on every available surface, the stench from the already rotting wounds churned her stomach, threatening to violently expel from her. She was seriously regretting the canteen of water she'd swallowed after the fight as she fought to keep it down. She tried breathing through her mouth, but that only let her taste it. The heat, already warm outside, was stifling, embracing her completely in the stale, stinking air. The men were groaning in pain, some screaming in agony for their mothers, or God, anyone who could take away the pain.
She was suddenly extremely grateful that she'd decided to come check on Roe. She didn't think she could last another minute in this place the smell was so bad, and Roe'd been here all day.
She finally spotted a likely head of hair, frantically mopping up blood from a gaping hole in a man. The bullet or whatever it was had torn away a large chunk of skin in the man's belly. She made her way over, suddenly desperate to help, slinging her gun across her shoulder and out of the way.
Roe looked up when another pair of hands joined his. He saw Eve's determined face, focused on the man in front of them and nothing else, using her hands to push the blood away from the wound so he could see that the intestine hadn't been nicked, merely exposed, thank God.
Roe shook out a bandage to cinch around the poor bastard's middle, pressing the padding onto the wound and flinging the white ties across his torso. "Tilt him up," he instructed his unexpected helper.
Eve grabbed the man's shoulders and hauled him onto his side so Roe could wrap the bandage around him.
"Okay," he said. Eve gently lowered the wounded soldier back on the bed. Roe pulled the straps tight, pulling a whimper from the nearly unconscious man. He'd already been given a morphine syrette to ease his pain, so he had been pretty quiet until now. Eve, her hands suddenly free, shushed the man like she would have a small child, smoothing his hair back from his forehead with her blood slicked hand, leaving long smears of red on the pallid face.
"You're alright," said Roe, adding to the reassurances. "It's not that bad. You're gonna be just fine. Just one more pull," he gave the straps a final yank, forcing as much pressure as he could onto the wound to stem the bleeding.
He gave Eve a nod, they were done. She gave the man a final pat on the head and followed Roe to a cleaning station, where they washed the blood off their hands in already murky water. She dried them on her filthy ODs.
"You hurt?" Roe asked as he flicked his hands dry, unable to use his ODs since his hands needed to stay as sterile as he could get them. Eve realized she hadn't even worried about it when she'd jumped in. There was nothing for it now, but she vowed to do better about it next time, if there was a next time.
Eve blinked at him and then looked down to see the bloodstain from this morning. Christ, had it only been this morning? It seemed like days ago, not hours. "I'm fine," she said. "It's not mine."
Roe nodded and then pinned her with a fierce stare, "What're you doin' here, Eve? You trying out for the Med Corp and I didn't hear about it?"
"Lord, no," she said vehemently. Not if they paid her ten thousand dollars a day would she work here. "I came to check on you, and then it looked like you needed a hand."
Roe blinked, honestly not sure what to do with that.
Eve, unable to keep from shifting under Roe's too sharp gaze, spoke again, "Have you had a chance to eat yet?"
He shook his head, still in awe of the woman in front of him.
"Alright then," she said. "Anyone you need to tell you're taking a break?"
He moved to find the man who'd assumed command of the medics and let him know he was going to find food. The man gave him a distracted nod and ran to assist a soldier being hauled in on a stretcher.
Roe spent a moment, as he made his way back to Eve, to just watch the woman as she stared at the man whose blood had so recently coated their hands. There was something a little too stiff in the way she was standing.
"Eve?" he said, able to catch her attention right away.
"Right," she said, giving a last look at the injured Private before striding out of the tent.
The sunlight hit her in the face like a splash of cold water. She hadn't realized how suffocating it had been in the tent. She looked at Roe as he soaked up the sparse sunlight too. Her respect for him, already high, doubled. She knew in that moment, despite never having to fire a gun, Roe had the hardest job in the whole damn Army. God bless all the medics. She was so fucking grateful she'd avoided the Nursing Corps and being a medic. She wouldn't have been able to handle it. She added a prayer for her friend, grateful he was made of sterner stuff than she was.
"You alright, Ev?" he asked, drawing her from her head again.
"Yeah," she said, "I don't know how you do it Gene." She shook her head, hoping to shake the thoughts away. "Let's go find some food."
He gave a nod and followed her to where the supply officers were handing out the K-rations they'd confiscated from the men who'd managed to land with them. They each took a package and found a place on the ground, out of the way to eat. The already cardboard tasting ration packs felt like ash in her mouth as her mind kept flashing scenes from the Aid Station across her vision.
"Did you see Popeye?" she asked, trying to keep the images at bay.
"Did he get hit?"
"In the ass," she said.
"No," said Roe, chewing over the words, "but I'm sure he's fine. That's probably the safest place to get hit," he said.
Eve hummed but went back to eating. She only managed half of it and gave the rest to Roe, giving him a look when he tried to protest and then shoving the remains in his pockets when he refused to take them. "For later," she said and then stood up, dusting off her ass out of habit before wandering off to go see if any other E Company men had wandered into the Assembly Area.
Roe watched her go.
XxX
It was dark now, light discipline in full effect to ward off the Luftwaffe, German bombers, from blowing their assembly area to hell.
By nightfall, they'd secured St. Marie-du-Mont, allowing the 4th Division to move men and material inland. The screams of the wounded and dying haunted the dark, pulling Eve back into the Aid Station in her mind's eye. She avoided going back like the plague.
They only had an hour to rest before they were heading south to secure Culoville and Eve was searching for a place where she could take an uninterrupted nap. Food would have been nice too, but sleep was paramount at the moment, and she was too tired to fuss with more shitty K-rations. It seemed like such a monumental task.
She heard a shout that might've been her, and paused, turning to find the source.
"Ev!" Malarkey called again. She finally caught sight of the Irishman heading straight for her with a smile on his face, Sergeant Lipton on his heels. "You eaten yet?" asked the man eagerly.
"No," she said, hesitant in the face of his eagerness. It had been hours since her half a ration with Roe, and the pangs of hunger had started gnawing at her.
"Good," said Lip seizing her around the shoulders and steering her back the way they'd come.
"What's going on?" she asked, bewildered as she let Lip lead her through the various military equipment strewn around.
"We're getting the Easy guys from the mission today, and Malark here is gonna cook some chow."
"And you want me there?" said Eve, just making sure.
"You were there weren't you?" he asked, confused. "Whatdya say?"
"Sure," she answered. Lip shared a victory smile with Malark over her head. They led her to a tarp-covered truck, already smoking.
Eve slipped under the flap and climbed in after Malark, grabbing Guarnere and Toye's hands as they pulled her up and into the jeep. The air was thick with the smell of burning wood, immediately throwing her back to camping and hunting in the woods with her father. She stared at the burning fire with a bit of apprehension. Even an idiot knew having a fire underneath a tarp was just asking for the tarp to catch fire.
"Eve, you made it!" said Liebgott with a huge grin. He slid over to make space for her between him and Lieutenant Compton, who offered her a smile.
"Everybody here?" asked Malark, dumping some meat – and she didn't want to know where he got it, thanks – and other indeterminate ingredients into an empty metal box originally used to hold machine gun bullets.
They sat and bitched at each other while the food heated up. Eve was mostly quiet, content just to be included, but laughed easily with the others. The longer the food took, the worse it smelled. Or maybe that was the gas Malarkey let rip without warning.
"Oh God," said Eve as the general groan of disgust and disapproval came from the others. It was absolutely foul, and Eve had smelled a lot of very foul things today. This was definitely up there. "What the hell did you eat, Malark!" she demanded, her hand pressed to her nose.
"It's those stupid K-rations," he said with a smile, absolutely tickled that he'd made everyone else groan. "They give me gas."
Eve gave him a horrified look over her hand, which made the other boys laugh. "I'm never, ever sharing a foxhole with you then," she threatened.
"Aw man," joked Malark, wickedly pleased that he'd managed to get Eve to act like a girl for once.
It only took three more bursts of flatulence before Lieb had enough of the smell and decided to abandon ship.
"What the hell are you doing?" demanded Toye, as Liebgott started standing up.
"I want out of the back of this Goddamn truck is what," he said pushing his way out. Eve was tempted to join him, but wanted the food too much at this point to give up now.
"Come on," cried Toye. "You're steppin on my legs!"
"Jesus!" said Lieb, finally reaching the flap and flinging it open for fresh air. "Let me outta here!"
"Light!" barked Lipton, "light discipline!" He sighed when Liebgott ignored him and walked away. "Guarnere, close that flap," he said.
"Let the Krauts cook their own Goddamn food," said Guarnere. They'd been talking about the POWs they'd taken, and how the Army was now using their rations to feed the Krauts. Guarnere was more than happy to express his displeasure.
Malark pulled the tin from the fire and took a bite.
"How we doin' Malark?" asked Guarnere.
"We're doin' good," said the man putting it back on the fire for a few more minutes.
Buck leaned over the tin, giving it a disdainful sniff, "Doing good? What the Hell do you know about cooking, Malark? You're Irish." Eve and Toye laughed.
"Sir, if you have reservations someplace else I'd be happy to go with you," Malarkey replied as he dished out the brown stew-like concoction. Eve got first serving, which, with how bad it smelled, wasn't necessarily a good thing.
It still probably hadn't been the best idea having a fire in the back of the jeep, but it was that or eat cold food, and with the stench coming off whatever it was, its one redeeming value was that it was hot.
The fellas stared at Eve expectantly, and she obediently took the first bite. She nearly spit it right back out.
The other guys cracked up and started eating their own shares.
Malarkey let off another fart, which was getting ridiculous by this point, cracking Eve and the other guys up. Guarnere popped his head out the back flap saying, "Jesus Christ, gimme some air!" which made them laugh harder.
"Oh God," groaned Eve, giggling.
The back flap opened and Lieutenant Winters ducked under the cover. "Evening," he greeted with a smile, fiddling with a can of tuna he'd scrounged from who knows where.
"Hello, sir," Guarnere answered.
"Did something die in here?" Winters asked, nearly retreating back outside to escape the smell. He tried to get a better look at what it could possibly be.
"Yeah, Malarkey's ass," said Eve, grumbling it low into her tin plate. Guarnere and Lip lost it again.
"Uh," said Buck, somber, "Any word on Lieutenant Meehan yet, sir?"
"No, not yet." Winters looked down again. Buck watched him and then turned to meet everyone else's eyes.
"Don't that make you our commanding officer, sir?" asked Guarnere.
"Yeah, it does," said Winters. His face asked Guarnere whether or not they were going to have a problem. If Guarnere would follow his orders without question once more. Eve watched Guarnere give him a nod of obvious respect and understood that there would be no problems of disobeyed orders from here on in.
She turned her attention back to the fire and Lip, who'd been poking it with a stick for the last however long she'd been in this truck, presumably to keep it burning, but he did it so often it was obvious he was just playing with it. It made the most beautiful smoke whirls. It had been the kind of day that made her try and appreciate the small things in life, namely, that she was still around to enjoy them.
"Sir?" Toye offered Winters some of the cider he'd scrounged.
"Ah, Joe, the Lieutenant don't drink," said Guarnere with a smile, trying to show his respect for the man in the way he said it. It was certainly a far cry from the loud displeasure he'd expressed only this morning.
But Winters, after a moment's hesitation took the bottle anyway, to Guarnere's obvious shock.
"It's been a day of firsts," he said as he took a pull from the bottle and swallowed hard, much to Guarnere's pleasure. "Don't you think Guarnere?" he added, offering the Sergeant the bottle.
"Yes, sir," said Guarnere, a new, even greater respect for the man in his eyes. They'd always respected Winters as a leader, but it was this kind of thing – putting his men at ease before his own comfort – that made him a great man. Guarnere took his own swig.
"Carry on," Winters said, pulling back, careful to keep escaped light to a minimum. Eve and the boys offered him a good night, but he seemed to remember something and ducked back in. "Oh, and Sergeant?" Guarnere was already back to staring at the fire.
"Sir?" said Guarnere in confusion.
"I'm not a Quaker." And he was gone.
Everyone in the truck lost it, laughing hard to release the tension as Guarnere ducked his head, busted.
"He's from Lancaster County. He's probably a Mennonite," said Guarnere taking a drag on his Lucky Strike.
"What's a Mennonite?" asked Toye. They laughed again, because it didn't really matter.
Outside, the success of the invasion was far from certain, but inside this Army supply truck, tarp down for light discipline, the soldiers from the Brecourt attack were happy to be alive and bitching about Malarkey's cooking.
Maybe,Eve thought as she tried chewing through the rock-tough meat, maybe they don't hate me anymore.
XxX
They found a place to sack-out. Winters set up outposts and Eve was just thankful not to be the poor bastard selected for duty. She rolled out the sleeping sack she'd been assigned next to Roe's bag, and got in.
Though she started somewhere towards the edge of the group, by the time everyone settled, she'd migrated to the center.
Lipton managed to put himself near enough that she could hear him breathing.
Of course, Eve noticed her centrally located position with some skepticism. She didn't quite understand the gesture, but she was too tired to fight it, so she fell asleep to the sound of German burb guns and drunken Kraut hollering, like they were a bunch of kids throwing a party, like they'd won something.
Eve knew better. They hadn't come all this way across the ocean, hadn't survived two years under Sobel's sadistic purview, to give up now. They'd just got here. Easy Company and the Allies were in France to stay.
Eve went to sleep that night to the sound of Roe's gentle lilt reciting prayers nearly but not quite drowning out the constant explosions, and surrounded by a Company of men who she had never thought would accept her. She was immensely grateful that they had.
She may have cried a little when she realized they'd encircled her to protect her from the other men when she woke up sometime in the early dawn. If anyone noticed, and she didn't think anyone did, no one said anything about it.
Eve had survived her first day in combat. She hadn't shaken or faltered under pressure. And she was so grateful that she'd earned her place beyond any shadow of doubt. Now she just had to continue to prove her worth. It was an endless job, but she was up for it.
-End Chapter-
-Outtake-
Eve was leaving the medical tent when she caught sight of Guarnere bickering with a supply officer, Bull Randleman standing menacingly in the background. She wandered closer and took stock of the situation.
It seemed like her fellow sergeants were trying to barter for some extra supplies that Easy was badly in need of, but not authorized to take.
"Come on, Sergeant," wheedled Guarnere. "I just need a belt of ammo for our machine gun. My friend's the one who wants the bandages and the morphine, what'll it take to change your mind?"
Eve walked over, and saw what Bull and Bill had laid out for trade. There was a Luger there, (where they'd found one, and more over how they'd kept it a secret, was anyone's guess) two chocolate bars, and a dozen or so packets of those Charms Candy things.
No smokes, though, thought Eve.
It wasn't that neither of them smoked, or even that neither one had them to trade, but now that they were in France cigarettes were worth their weight in gold. Everybody seemed to want them, and no one seemed to have any they were willing to part with.
Eve dug into her bag and figured the bandages alone was worth the hit to her stock pile. She tossed in three cartons of smokes to sweeten the deal in their favor.
"What about now?" she said.
Guarnere looked up in surprise, but his eyes quickly snapped to the reconsidering supply officer.
The supply Sergeant seemed to weigh his prize against the shit he would get for misplacing the items they wanted. "Deal."
Randleman clapped her on the shoulder and requisitioned her as part pack mule to help tow their prize back to Easy's assembly area. Eve grabbed the box of bandages she'd been coveting for Roe if he ever came out of the medic tent, and let the men grab the boxes of morphine and ammo.
"Thanks, Buchanan," said Guarnere.
"You're welcome," she said. And that was that.
-End Outtake-
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