In order to get Krista out of the area, I'm afraid I may have delved into the area of make believe for some time. It may sound a little corny and make no sense but I like it enough. Hope you don't mind it.

Chapter Fourteen: Saying Goodbye

October 1944

Randwijk, Holland

Captain Winters stared down the lieutenant, questioning whether or not he could convince the man to turn a blind eye on the situation and walk away. It did not seem likely. The man appeared bent on getting Krista out of there, or getting every man demoted; he had yet to determine which.

Krista sat in the corner of the room, waiting for either of the two to say something. It seemed like a stalemate. Perhaps they would be here all night.

Winters finally spoke. "What exactly do you want out of this, Lieutenant?"

"Sir, I just want the girl out of here. She is not supposed to be on the front lines."

"She is just a local. Last time I checked she could be here if she wanted."

The lieutenant, still at attention, held back a scoff. "Sir, from what I understand, she has been with you a while. If that is true, sir, wouldn't that mean you took her with you from wherever you were before?"

Winters sighed, feeling boxed in already. This was not going to be simple, if even possible. "How do you know how long she has been with us?"

"From the way the men reacted, sir. They would have had to have known her for a long period of time."

"Well, that's a good theory and all, but-″

"Sir, I wasn't finished."

Winters paused before responding, giving a disapproving look that made the lieutenant cringe slightly. "Continue."

"Sir, I helped evacuate wounded from Nuenen. I recall seeing her there." Krista watched all the confidence slip from Winters' grasp. There was no winning the fight now. The man had a point. Better agree with him before something terrible happens.

"Alright, Lieutenant, I see your point. Yes, I'll do something about it. She'll be off the front lines soon." The lieutenant saluted; Winters just waved it off. He sat down with another sigh, watching the man leave. He figured the hard part was over when in fact everything had been easy so far.

Krista looked over at Winters. "I must leave?"

Winters nodded. "I hate it as much as you do, but what choice do I have?"

"Order him not to tell." Krista said, standing up.

"I wish it were as simple as that but it's not. If anyone found out after that point, I'd be in a lot more trouble than I am right now." He paused. "You should have known they'd find out eventually." She did but she had hoped that it would not have been so soon.

"Where do I go?"

"I'll have Nix find someplace for you. We are not leaving you alone."

Krista could feel her heart sinking. Everything she had come to know was leaving once again. "Will I see them again?"

Winters looked up at her, seeing the genuine look of fear in her eyes. She had bonded with the men. In fact, they were probably the only family she had left and now he was taking her away from them. This almost seemed more dangerous than leaving her on the front lines. It killed him inside to have to do it, but there was no other choice. If she wanted any chance of seeing the men again, she would have to leave now.

He sighed. "I don't know."

Packing what little she had, Krista found herself crying once again. She wished they had hated her, forcing her to leave, to run off to some country where no one would know her. It would have hurt less. Eventually she would have forgotten them, at least in the manner that she forgot Pierre or her brother. Instead, she was being left with a good memory that she may never be able to return to, leaving a permanent hole that would never heal, a hole that could kill her. There was no doubt there.

There was a soft knock at the door. Krista froze, pulling herself together. She did not want to look like a complete wreck again, but even as she thought about this, she knew it would be an impossible task. Emotion always made itself known, especially around the men.

"Come in." she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but they heard. The door opened slowly as though waiting for more permission.

"Hey, Krista." Nixon whispered. "I'm here to, um…escort you to your new quarters."

She nodded, wiping the drying tears from her face. How she hated crying all the time. Had she not been through enough already? Everything was supposed to get easier and instead it only got worse.

Nixon scratched his head, thinking of anything that would cheer her up. "The boys are throwing a little going away party for you, at least until the jeep arrives." Krista nodded again, grabbing her bag which, despite its lack of contents, felt extremely heavy.

"For most of them it's just a good excuse to get a drink."

Her lips managed to form a smile. "You do not need one."

Nixon's surprise looked genuine. "How'd you…of course, nothing gets past a woman." He paused. "I never said it was my excuse though." Grabbing her bag, Nixon led the way out of her room, giving Krista a few moments to herself. Not long ago she had walked these hallways in fear, now she held them in reverence, wishing them to stay a while longer. Perhaps this was the lesson to be learned. Never come to hate things or fate will take them from you, only then will you realize how much you love it. Apparently her brother was not enough.

All too soon the hallway came to an end. Before the two sat a door, it delighted at the opportunity to show them their future.

Outside all of the men were gathered. Krista hoped that there were still men guarding the line but was inwardly pleased with the results. So many faces tried to look happy but she could see right through them. No one wanted her to leave. At least there was one thing to be thankful for.

The first person to come up to her was Luz, his smile goofier than ever.

"What's this? Guarnere gets hurt and suddenly you're leaving us?"

"Yeah, what's he got that we don't?" asked Toye, enjoying the new game thoroughly. The others quickly joined in.

"He's got a broken leg."

"A terrible voice."

"And a sense of humor to match."

"And if I didn't know better, I'd say you like him." Malarkey whispered in her ear. She elbowed him hard, relishing the groan that soon followed.

Krista shouted something in German which Liebgott translated as soon as he caught his breath.

"At least he knows how to show a girl a good time." The crowd erupted with laughter, whistles and comments were soon tossed in. Many nods of approval were also received.

Everyone soon quieted down as the men thought of the sergeant. He had been shipped out that morning, giving Krista no opportunity to say goodbye. He would have been the life of the 'party.' They all missed him though no one was going to admit it.

Heffron coughed and stepped forward. "Speaking of Guarnere, he left something for you."

"Couldn't expect him to leave quietly, could we?" Bull asked after a small laugh. Others followed.

Out of his pocket, Heffron drew a hand full of beads, beautiful little things and colored ruby red. They were all attached by a string and connected at the bottom with an ornate cross. A rosary.

"He still thinks you're Catholic."

"Then he's still wrong!" Liebgott shouted, now lost in the crowd. There was more laughter.

Krista grabbed the rosary, holding it delicately, afraid it would snap. She put it around her neck and quickly tucked it inside her shirt. She could almost hear Guarnere throwing out some terrible comment. His gift was perfect.

The sound of a vehicle approaching silenced the group. Men could no longer hold the look of happiness on their faces. Their eyes glanced back and forth, falling on Krista briefly then returning to the jeep or some other random direction. They all shifted uncomfortably, amateurs at the art of saying goodbye. Krista took her time to hug each one of them, not caring how long it took or how pathetic it looked to others. Luz, Liebgott, Malarkey, Heffron, Toye, Roe, Bull, Lipton, Perconte, Muck, Martin and others she had just gotten to know like Penkala, Powers and even a few replacements. It seemed as though everyone had fallen under her spell.

Trigger made his way through the crowd, whining all the while. He was not going to attempt to cover the fact that he did not want her to go. Krista knelt to the ground and gave the German shepherd an extra long hug, letting him lick her face to his heart's content.

"You don't need to do that." Talbert said as he looked on. Both looked up at him, confused. "Trigger is a good dog but the front lines are no place for him either. He's going with you." Confusion soon turned to shock and then elation. Giving Talbert a quick hug, she let him say his final goodbyes to Trigger.

The group then parted, revealing the jeep, killing all good feelings that had emerged. This was it. She was really leaving. There would b not last second miracles to save her now. Second chances were hard to come by and she had already been given so many. Perhaps fate had been kinder than what she believed.

A small box sat in the back; it boasted the title 'chocolate bars.' Tied together with string, it looked like some half-baked attempt at a Christmas present. Krista gazed at it curiously, wondering whether she should be afraid or not.

Winters stood on the other side of the jeep. "It's a small token from the men." He said, smiling at Krista's caution. "No, there's not chocolate in there. The men took it upon themselves to personally empty the box for your present." Krista now looked at them with almost accusing eyes. She was going, perhaps never to come back, and not one thought to save her some chocolate. The men smiled sheepishly in reply, eyes looking like puppy's.

"Instead they gave you something a little more…lasting." Krista now looked at Winters, still cautious and confused more than ever. Winters motioned to the box. She opened it slowly, waiting for something to pop out at her. The string was knotted together so badly, it took her a few minutes to actually get it open. Several men offered their knives but she insisted that she could get it done. If there was one thing she could do by herself, it was untying a box, no matter how lengthy or embarrassing it was.

Eventually the string lost its fight. Krista found herself staring at a small pile of papers. Each one had a different name on it. She picked up the one clearly marked 'Nixon;' his handwriting was so much better than her own, she thought. Inside were words she did not understand.

"What is this?" she asked, squinting her eyes like she believed that the loss of vision would improve her chances of reading the tiny paper.

"That and the other papers are the home addresses of every man in the company." Krista looked up from the paper, tears already forming in her eyes at the thought of such a simple yet beautiful gesture. "In case they never see you again, or even if they do, the men thought it would be nice for you to keep in contact with them once the war is over, though I think many would prefer an actual visit." Krista never caught the last part. So swept up in an overwhelming wave of emotion, she practically tackled Winters, hugging him as tightly as she could. The normally shy captain did not hesitate in returning the hug, feeling a touch of her innocence as he did so. Despite everything she had been through, a child-like quality managed to make itself known at times. They all had been dragged from home too soon, reality not giving anyone the proper chance to grow up. This 'adulthood' that they had all been forced into was a drastic change from what they would have normally received. Whether it was better or not had yet to be determined.

The men sat back, watching without surprise or the urge to joke. It was a nice moment, one of an unfortunate few they would experience in Europe.

The jeep driver, who had been watching the entire scene unfold with a mixture of frustration and impatience, honked the horn repeatedly to inform the group that he was still there and had a schedule that needed to be kept. In the middle of the biggest war in history, he did not want to fine himself driving around a bunch of refugees that men had gotten attached to.

Giving the driver a harsh look, Krista quickly let go of Winters and entered the back of the jeep, placing the box of addresses in her lap. Trigger settled in next to her, still forlorn looking but okay with the decision. Nixon climbed up front and whispered something to the driver. The man did not complain again.

Krista gathered the courage to look over at the men, at her family, but before she could say anything, the jeep took off. Soon the men that she had grown close to, who knew everything about her and accepted her, were mere specks on the horizon. She held back the tears. There would be no more. They were alive. It was best that she last saw them like that, relatively happy and together for war never gives those opportunities often.

Krista gazed outside the window at the passing farmland. Occasionally there would be signs of war such as beaten down tanks or shelled buildings but other than that tell what kind of hell the country had been through.

Nixon had accompanied her as far as Antwerp. He took her to the city's train station and gave her a one-way ticket to Mourmelon-le-Grand, the one French city, besides Paris, that she never got a chance to visit during her two year run with Pierre, not that she wanted to go there. Pierre had told her enough about the city. Every war since Caesar had had its way with it. The conditions were not pretty.

Neither were they on the train. Since it was one heading away from the front lines, the majority of the passengers were wounded soldiers. Every type of injury imaginable could be found. Many were missing arms or legs; others had their heads wrapped in bandages. Some had only minor injures, most of the damages being found elsewhere.

The conductor almost did not let her on, afraid of what the sight of wounded men would do to her. after being reassured by Nixon several times that she had seen much worse, the man reluctantly let her on. Trigger, though, was not so lucky. He had to be with the luggage. She could only imagine what he was going through now.

The train went through a tunnel, breaking off Krista's thoughts. She looked back inside the train. Two men sat with her playing a card game. They had hit it off rather well, finding the fact that they had lost opposite legs entertaining. Every now and then they would glance over at her, curious as to why she was there though the never said anything. Neither did she. Krista settled for a warm smile and nod, not wanting to know how her accent might effect the situation.

They had to be nearing the station by now. Krista thought over what she had to do. After getting all her things, she would meet with a lieutenant that was a good friend of Nixon's. he would take her to a house near the outskirts of the town where a few nurses stayed. She was going to be a volunteer and help out at the nearby hospital. Though she would rather be helping the men of Easy, at least she was not sitting around doing nothing.

She began to mull over what Nixon had told her before leaving.

"This is the interesting part," he said. "We needed a legitimate reason to take you away like this. While it isn't right for us to have you, HQ would have been fine with driving you a mile away and wishing you the best of luck. We had to make sure you were a little more…attached."

"Attached?"

"You're married to someone."

It took a few minutes for Krista to pick her jaw up off the ground, but she finally asked. "To who?"

"It doesn't matter who. I never filed the paperwork, nor will I. I just needed to show some people so I could get you out of here and-″

"Who?"

"Guarnere." She hit him after that.

"What?! It makes perfect sense since he is no longer here." Nixon replied, backing away and rubbing his arm slightly. "Besides, you two do act like a married couple." He dodged the second blow.

Looking at the soldiers now, she wondered if that was what they suspected: some girl that married a lonely GI just to get out of there, to America if she could. It was a depressing thought and certainly something she would never do.

The amount of buildings outside began to increase, hinting to an incoming city. Krista found herself holding her breath. She was starting over…again, new people, a new place and no one to help her. she should have been used to it by now but that would be an even more unfortunate thing.

The slowing train confirmed that it was the stop. Next to her, the men began picking up their cards, mumbling and laughing to themselves. At least someone was enjoying the trip.

Krista was one of the last to get off the train, choosing to wait until all of the wounded had been taken off. They had been through enough already; the last thing they needed was someone in the way only making things worse.

Standing on the platform, a half empty bag in one hand and the least of an overanxious dog in the other, Krista looked horribly out of place. She watched others walk around with a destination and purpose in mind; she had neither. If no one came for her, which knowing her luck might happen, she would not know what to do or where to go. Then again, she should have been used to this too.

A slender, young officer slowly approached her. Krista assumed it was the lieutenant Nixon had been referring to. Who else would come looking for a lost and confused refugee?

"Ms. Krista?" he asked rather confidently, still offering a hand which she, like all the other times, took. "I am Lieutenant Novak. I suppose Captain Nixon spoke of me?" Krista nodded; he looked down. "He didn't tell me there was a dog." He shrugged, grabbing the bag from her and leading the way through the crowd.

Krista found herself in another jeep traveling through a city that looked just as it had been described. It was depressing.

"Now, I don't mean to be rude. I know you people have been through a lot but you're lucky that Nixon is a good friend of mine or you would not have gotten as far as you have. We're not here to take care of war brides; we're here to take care of the enemy." Krista now watched him curiously. He seemed like a nice man but he had yet to show it, not that he needed to. She owed him enough as it was.

The rest of the drive was quiet. Krista continued her careful observation of the lieutenant, seeing as how she had nothing else to do. His features were similar to Pierre's, dark hair, handsome and rugged. What a way to return to France.

They pulled up to a small building just off the main road. It was tow stories but just barely with only one window for the upstairs. Flower pots sat outside, distracting from the dull, brick exterior of the building, but everything inside them was dead. No one had time to care for beautiful things anymore.

Krista climbed out of the jeep and took her bag from Novak.

"Be careful in there," he said, winking. "I hear they're a handful." Then he was off, leaving her to a fate that she was even less certain about. Trigger sniffed the air cautiously, more afraid now then he had ever been on the front lines. Strangely enough, Krista felt the same. She would rather be in a trench than on this small dirt road.

The windows, once shut, now flew open, releasing a large amount of profanity and smoke. Krista turned her head trying to get a better look. Two hands appeared, waving a towel in attempt to get rid of the smoke faster. Other people inside could be heard shouting.

Suddenly wandering around with nowhere to go did not seem like such a bad thing.

Now the door opened and out stepped a tall blonde, clearly upset at what was going on.

"Next time you try to cook, make sure no one else is around!" She turned to see Krista, a disheveled brunette who had been through hell and back and looked about ready to return to it. "Oh, shoot. You must be Krista." She gave a half nod, not bothering to bring her head back up.

The blonde gave her an awkward smile and stepped forward. "I'm Megan." Krista made no response, still unsure of how to react. "Yeah…who is this?" Megan asked, kneeling down to pet the German shepherd at Krista's feet.

"Trigger." Krista replied at a whisper, watching him enjoy the attention he got from Megan. He took to women quickly, something she normally would have found entertaining. Today was a day of firsts.

"Trigger, huh? Can I assume you didn't name him?" Megan asked, smiling. It was warm and welcoming. Perhaps the transition would not be so bad. She nodded. "Was it your husband then?" Megan's smile faded almost as fast as Krista's color. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is that subject off limits? I can understand. Whenever my husband is on the front lines, I don't like to talk about him either."

"How much do you know?"

Megan stood quickly, a little embarrassed. "Geez, what a way to start off. I don't want to sound like I'm prying. We were only told your name and that you married someone. They needed to get you off the line so we offered to keep you here. the hospital heard you could speak German which is going to come in handy. We get a few POWs every now and then and our translator could use a break." It was a lot to absorb, leaving Krista silent for a while. Megan became nervous.

Another person exited the building. She was a short girl, especially next to Megan, with fiery red hair and glowing green eyes.

"C'mon, Megan, you can't leave me in here alone to clean up her- oh, hi there." Krista gave the newcomer a small wave; Megan turned to her.

"Louise, this is Krista and vice versa."

"Megan, you know I don't like-″

"Sorry…Krista, this is Lou." The redhead produced a hand.

"Pleasure to meet you." Krista took her hand, noting the strong grasp she had. They must have been though a lot, both of them. It became easy to tell after a while. Everyone knew who had shared their experiences. "You look tired. Long trip?"

"Long war." Krista replied, still quiet.

Megan nodded. "What has it been, five years since Holland was free? Four? Either way, it's forever. I can't imagine what you've been through." So she was Dutch again. At least it was something she could deal with.

"So, who brought you here?" Lou asked, a little too excited for an answer. Megan gave her a look that Krista did not fully understand.

"An officer…Novak?"

Lou's smile widened. "And he couldn't stick around for his bride?" Confusion at its peak, Krista believed that being with the men was a lot easier, and simpler.

Megan frowned. "Lieutenant Novak is my husband and Lou can't stop pointing out the fact that-″

"They've been married three months!" Lou squealed and jumped like a little girl. It was something Krista had not seen for some time. If the men had done that, it would have scared her more than it did now.

"So what, it's better than the three month affair you had with that sailor."

Lou stopped jumping and began to pout a little. "He was a marine."

Megan turned back to Krista. "I guess we're both war brides, aren't we?" Krista merely smiled, avoiding any other kind of confirmation. She watched Lou walk forward and take Trigger's leash. He looked back at Krista for some kind of help as he was taken toward the house.

"This is a great dog!" Lou shouted, almost inside. "What's his name?"

"Trigger!" Megan shouted back.

"I can guess who named him!" Krista paled again and Megan shook her head.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure they don't mention him anymore. You've been through enough already." Megan picked up Krista's bag and began to lead the way to the house. "Oh, we also tend to ask the same questions so get used to repetition." Krista took one last look around and sighed, following Megan to her new home. She was certain it would be a nice place but that did not aide her troubled mind. There would be no replacing her time with the men. War or no war, it was the one place that she would rather be.

Her first view inside was a hazy one, the smoke from the kitchen still pouring out at a decent rate. The smell was of terrible, burnt things, and Krista could not help but wrinkle her nose slightly. Down the hallway, she could hear Trigger sneeze. What the smell must have been to him.

A figure approached through the smoke, coughing as it went. Another woman emerged, her simple dress stained with the burnt concoction that she had been attempting. Her hair was brown like Krista's only it was worn shorter and with curls which emphasized the roundness of her face. She looked rather cheery despite the mess she had made within.

"Ah, here she is! It's about time too. I was wondering if the lieutenant hadn't gone and taken a new bride."

"I heard that, Chelsea!" Megan shouted from somewhere in the smoke; Krista could not be sure where.

Chelsea snickered a little. "Well, I guess that's it for introductions. I've got a bit of a mess to clean up in the kitchen. Just go through that doorway there straight back until you reach the staircase. We all share the upstairs as a bedroom."

"So if you plan on having any guests, stay at their place," Lou added, appearing behind Chelsea. The look on her face made Krista nervous so she turned to the hallway and left. Chelsea promptly hit Lou.

"Cut it out! You're making her nervous! Besides, you know she's married."

"Yeah, I know but…well, you never know." Chelsea rolled her eyes.

Krista heard their conversation, the word 'married' making her stomach churn worse than it already was. How could she possibly go on like this? Being the Dutch girl again, that was fine but talking about being married? She did not even believe it herself. If Guarnere ever found out, she would never hear the end of it.

She paused at the bottom of the stairs.

Guarnere! What was she going to do if she ever saw him again? The knowledge of what Nixon had put her through would only cause her to giggle in front of him, or pale at least. She could not lie to him, not anymore. Inwardly, Krista began to pray that no mistakes were made with the paperwork that permanently made her Mrs. Bill Guarnere. She shuddered at what her father would think. Normally he would have been the least of her worries but the worst ones were confirmed dead.

The thought shook her out of the daze and she continued her trek up the stairs.

The room was warm and comfortable, heaven compared to the front lines. How the men would have loved this. Four beds, two on each side, were in the room along with four dressers. There was also a large wardrobe to her right. A few pictures were scattered here and there but the room was mostly bare, evidence that most of the girls' time was not spent in this room.

"Sorry it's not much," Megan said, setting down Krista's bag on what she assumed was her bed. "We don't exactly have the time to decorate around here. It's a little low on the priority list." Krista nodded, walking over to her new bed. It was near the window, a luxury she was thankful for.

Megan put her hands on her hips. "Okay. I'm going to start making dinner. Don't worry, nothing will catch on fire." She paused as though waiting for an unexpected smile. "You don't have to come down. I understand it's been a long day, sleep as much as you want. In the mean time, I'll keep the girls off you. They've been dying to discuss gossip with someone new." She began to walk away toward the staircase.

"Megan."

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Megan smiled. "No problem."

Krista looked at her bag. Slowly she opened it and pulled out the small box that the men had given to her. She read all of the little papers inside. Most contained notes to her. Some made her laugh while others made her think. Most of them gave her the urge to cry. How could a letter possibly replace seeing them? What if she never saw them again?

Shaking her head, Krista moved on to the last paper. It was Webster's. Guilt coursed through her body once again. He still did not know about her.

He had written a small message in his always neat handwriting.

I sent this to Janovec. Hope it gets to you. Write anything you want. Remember it makes sense.

Krista could not help but laugh at that, remembering back to that rainy day. She looked at the address scribbled down. Not only was there one in America but also a hospital in Paris. She decided there and then that if she ever got to go to Paris, she would find Webster and tell him all about herself. It was not fair that others knew while he did not. Hopefully he would react just as they had and remain her friend.

At the bottom of the box was another piece of paper but this one was much thicker than the others. On the back was a note.

In case you forget us.

Thinking that it would hardly be the case, she turned the paper over. It was a picture of Easy Company. Smiling, she placed it on the dresser next to her bed and glanced over the faces one by one. She would see them again; she knew it.

Ta-Dah!