February 3rd, 1945
Hangunau, France
This town was the next place we were going to stay in for awhile, and none of us knew why except for Winters and Nixon. They both weren't reply liking the fact that we were still moving around aimlessly really, but then again it was better than being out in Bastogne or in Foye. The boys were glad to be out of the cold, and although I didn't go through that cold with them, they still accepted me back tenfold and with open arms.
The cold made them all cool on the outside, no longer having warm grins to throw around at each other. I knew why: all of the cold nights and the bitter thoughts that they weren't going to make it, some of their friends being killed because of the nights and days of battle, others losing their minds and sanity from the isolation and constant whispers of the wind, and of course, the two closest ones who lost their legs and had to be sent home.
Now we were going to be in a new place, a new town to take over and liberate, and we were acting like this was the last place we wanted to be in. I could see it in their eyes and how they would sit in the jeeps, talking to each other and looking out in the distance with no life in them anymore.
Thankfully, George was still there in his spirits, since I came back to the men he had to find some ways to stay close to me and not have me leave his sight. I would never take him as the protective type, then again I did almost die in a plane crash and he was left with a letter that I was going to give him. It had to have been nerve-wracking for him, and I felt like a great girlfriend then. But we would help each other in any way that we could: getting through rations next to him and the paperwork that was included, and him helping me with organizing the jeeps in their proper places before we would move out to the next town. I knew he was trying to make things positive for the others, however, he too was having the cold affect him far too much and it makes the light within him more dim and less of a catch.
I still stayed close enough to him, though. I knew he needed it.
We rolled into the town, abandoned buildings left and right with some pieces missing from the corners or in front of those walls. This town was beyond damaged and broken down from the war that was affecting all that we were touching now as I was sitting in one of the main trucks that were carrying in our rations and some of the men. Other were on a patrol nearby, so it was mostly myself, George since he was in charge of the rations, and the rest for the NCO's who were not on the patrol that day.
"Over here on the right, near those buildings there." I explained to the private who was driving, having myself noticed that we were not the only ones in the town. Other Companies were there, walking to and from the buildings and watching us now with almost eyes of an annoyance now while we were driving through the mud of the road. It was nice to know we weren't the only ones there in the town, but then again, it felt more daunting to have others around us now.
"Here you go, Sergeant," the private said to me now as we parked our trucks over near one of the main buildings that seemed less damaged. I saluted him before hopping out and walking over to the back, seeing the backdoor still open and the couple other trucks parking behind me. I got the door, tapping it twice with my fist and hearing the movement within the truck.
"Move your ass out of the way, Jesus." I heard within the flaps of the trucks, making me crack a grin now as someone popped their head out from the flaps: Malarky.
"We there, Ace?" He asked me in wonder. He was looking thinner since he too was a Staff Sergeant and was getting more of job placed on his plate. A beard was growing in on him, but then again he was still kind enough to me,
"We made it," I replied, seeing him go back into the truck again as I spoke up, "And don't call me that!"
"Why not? It's your name now," He replied to me from inside the truck now. I received that name from the men the very same day I came into Noville, all of them thinking that I was needing a nickname since I was part of their company officially now. I was still getting used to the new attire and protocol, not to mention I was still not skilled to use a rifle like the rest of them. But after consideration, they told me that I was better off with a pistol than anything, better that than being unarmed.
"Says who?" I asked him in a hint of agitation now, seeing another body hop out of the truck now and land on his feet. I grinned from who it was in front of me, a plastered smile on his face as it was none other than George Luz.
"Says me," He replied in a happy manner, having me chuckle now as he was grinning at me from ear to ear and his floppy hair was swaying with the cool wind, "I find it to be an appropriate name for you since you're officially one of us now."
"Not that I wasn't one before." I said to him in almost a dry humor kind of way.
"Oh ha ha, be nice to your boyfriend." He said to me in a mocked tone, having me giggle now as he leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. Another person was coming out of the truck, the both of us moving away from one another again as Lipton was the one who was struggling to come out of the truck now. He was getting sick from the looks of it, the loss of color on his face and the way eh was trying to keep going with his duties as Lieutenant but was lagging in energy and health. It was not looking good in his favor.
"Come on, Sergeant, there's bound to be a bed for you inside one of those rooms. If not, we can make you one," Johnny Martin explained to him as he too jumped out of the truck and then walked next to Lipton, almost like he was waiting for him to fall over at any second.
"I'll be okay, Johnny. I just need to find where Captain Winters is…" Lipton started before he started another round of coughing and almost fell to the floor from all the heaving he was doing.
"Nope," Johnny replied, grabbing Lipton by the arm to make sure he didn't fall over and break his head open on the icy floor,"Doc's orders: you need a bed to lie down in and you need to stay warm."
"But Captain Winters…" Lipton was about to protest.
"Told me to tell you to follow Doc's orders. Don't make me report you into CP." Johnny advised him calmly as they walked away. I felt bad for Lipton since he took good care of the boys back in Bastogne and near Foye that now he had to be the one who was going to be taken care of.
"Poor bastard," George said as he too was watching, "Caught it yesterday: Pneumonia. Doc says he's going to be sitting out of a week or two."
"I doubt that's what he wants anyways," I said to agree with him. Others from Easy were coming out of the trucks now as Malarky finally got out of the truck out and stretched his back.
"Finally, felt like we were in there for hours," He said in almost a comment for light conversation with George and I, "After you guys get settled with the trucks, head over to CP and get squared away with the rations there."
"You got it, Malarky," George replied back to him as he shoved his hair from his eyes, "Hey, any word on the others who went on patrol?"
"Not yet, but they're due back in an hour or so," Malarky answered him and a rub of his beard with his fingers, "The way I see it, those who went out during the day are going to be the ones going out at night. I'll keep you posted."
"Thanks," I said to him as he walked off towards CP, seeing the others making the migration in the same direction. We all looked the same: grungy, stained with blood and mass effects of the war, and their burdens as well. It felt so surreal to seem them all there walking like they were brainless, They didn't look like they were the same group of men that I met back at the states some years ago. They were no longer boys filled with youth, vigor, and wonder, they were just lost souls try to make it to the next day and not die. It was depressing to think about.
"Come on, let's do ration protocol and then we can go a walk make," He suggested, the both of us starting to walk together now along the muddy ground with our boots splattering in the thick liquid.
"How much more rations do we have to go, though?" I asked him, seeing him grimace a bit as he scratched the back of his head.
"Not enough to get us through this city in one piece, but we can get by. We always do," He reassured me now, having me nod in agreement next to him. We were running low on our food, there was nothing really for us to be really concerned with since we were pulled from the main battle lines and now just breathing in and out for the sake of staying alive.
It was another day in our neighborhood.
"When was the last time you heard from Beth?" Lipton asked me as we both were sitting together in the main room that was CP, well, he was sprawled out on the lounge chair that they found for him and he was just trying to make himself busy once again. George was on the other side of the room with another soldier, the both of them going through the rations there and I was just keeping Lipton company since the rationing job was well taken care of.
"When I was in Paris before I crashed," I replied to him, seeing George look up at me for a solid few seconds when I mentioned the work, "Crash". He was still sore about what happened to me, almost like he didn't want to talk about it anymore.
"I bet you miss her," He commented, coughing a bit and almost shaking the whole lounge chair he was in now as I reached over to grab his canteen that was on the floor.
"I do, everyday," I answered as he drank from his canteen, "I have no way of getting to write to her, and I don't know if I got a letter back from my brother about her."
"I'm sure the Air Force will transfer any letters to you as soon as they can," He reassured me in his raspy tone.
"I know, it's just hard being away from her this long and after what happened to me…"I trailed off, not wanting to talk about that subject since it was already sore for some of my friends in Easy: Shifty, Doc, Joe Liebgott, and Bull. They all hated what happened to me, Joe and Doc the most really since they both were really agitated that I had to go through something like that. But then again, they made sure I was going to do okay within the next period of war with them all.
"You've been doing well with your recovery, from what we all saw since you came with us to Noville," Lipton stated to me, not as a question, but as a statement to have me gaze at him from my spot on the lounge chair.
"Thank you, sir." I thanked him kindly, yet he was giving me the look of both a leader and someone who genuinely cared about my well-being. It made me think that I was going to have a heart to heart with my father.
"Honestly though, Adaline. You didn't have to come back with us if you didn't want to. Why did you?" He asked, not sounding any way mean at all, more curious than aggravated about me coming back to Easy. I thought about it since no one really asked if I wanted to be back with Easy and just go to Paris again once I had the chance. I would have gone back to Paris, back to where I knew nothing was really going to happen and I had a sense of stability. But it wouldn't have felt right since I knew Easy was so close to touch and yet I would have been wiped away from them again within an instant.
"You boys were beyond kind and good to me since I was transferred to Camp Toccoa, sir. There was no sense of camaraderie for me in the Air Force, and I'm just glad to have some kind of acceptance amongst men here in the war." I explained to him calmly now and with a shrug of my shoulders, already remembering all of the times we were talking to one another either near my planes or in the mess hall. I grew to know them, some more than others, and they too wanted to get to know me. It felt nice considering I had no real kind of love like that from the Air Force, the same kind of family-like atmosphere between strangers whom never met before.
"Well, we're glad you decided to come back and work with us," he commented to me with his kindness there on his sick but war face. I smiled back, already feeling back at home with the men since it was going to be more permanent now than before when I was just going in and out of their world for mere moments at a time.
"Here you go, Sergeant Lipton, I got you a blanket." George said, breaking the silence as he was walking over from his area with a thick army blanket within his hands. As soon as he was going to place the blanket over him, another sound of footsteps were heard coming into the room now, all of us looking over to see it was that it was Webster, the very soldier whom I haven't seen in months, since October at Crossroads. He was wounded in the battle, shot in the leg and then to the hospitals and for rehab, and now he was back with Easy. He looked more clean cut than the rest of us, more rested and more at peace. I would think he would be glad to be back, but something in his face was telling me something else.
"Hey, look who it is. Nice dig, huh?" George asked him.
"Yeah. Sgt. Lipton, you feeling alright?" Webster asked him with his cool tone.
"He's got Pneumonia." George explained to Webster as he was dropping the blanket over Lipton's legs and Lipton trying to avoid getting hit in the bead.
"Sorry to hear that." Webster said in a sad manner now.
"What are you sorry for? He's alive, he's got a couch, a goddamn blanket. He's snug as a bug." George said in almost a snort to him now as Webster looked over at me a grinned. I smiled at him.
"Good to see you, Adaline," Webster said to me kindly.
"You as well, Web. Glad to see you back," I explained, thinking that I was the only one who was a small ray of kindness to him since he looked like he was glowing because of how I talked to him. He looked back at Lipton, bag over his shoulder again.
"Sgt. Malarky said to check if I should be in 2nd platoon." Webster explained.
"Have a seat, Webster. We'll get you situated," Lipton told him softly as Webster got his spot near the broken down piano, sitting uncomfortably now since he could tell this was an awkward place to be in.
"How long have you been sick?" Webster asked him, trying to make small talk.
"Long enough," Lipton merely answered, then hearing none other than another set of steps within the room now as George was walking over to sit next to me near Lipton now. We all looked, George looking a but more agitated now as he was standing near me, almost touching my jacket with his fingers. Another soldier walked in, but not a person we have seen before, and he looked more clean-cut than anything, making me cringe a bit just looking at him now as he eyed al of us at once. Not only was he clean cut, he was young looking too, younger than me maybe.
"Is this Company CP for Easy?" He asked with a ring to his voice.
"Yes, sir." Webster said back to him.
"As you were," He said to him, yet none of us moved out as he continued to talk, "I'm Lt. Jones, I'm looking for Captain Spiers."
"He's on his way, sir. Why don't you sit down," Lipton asked him in a suggestion. Jones walked into the room now with his helmet now off and under his arm and we were still eyeing him. But then he looked eyes with me, almost stumbling a bit and I grinned at him kind since the last thing I wanted to do was to be seen as a bitch in front of someone whom I just met.
"This is Sergeant Adaline O'Malley, a transfer from the American Air Force. She's in charge of transportation with this company," Lipton introduced him to me, seeing him give me a short smile and then I heard George shift behind me a bit, almost pressing into me slightly from where I was sitting. I wanted to tell George, somehow communicate with him to back off and not have something happen to him all because of me.
"Pleasure to meet you." He said to me, trying to be courteous but I could tell he was still thrown off by me and why I was there.
"Same to you, sir." I said to him calmly now as Lipton spoke up again.
"Can you grab me a coffee?" Lipton asked one of the privates that were walking across the room, Lipton then looking at Jones now, "You want a coffee?"
"No thank you," Jones replied.
"Okay, one for me and one for Sergeant O' Malley," Lipton instructed the private as I was about to protest on the coffee invitation,"You look a bit sleepy over there always."
"Thanks, Lip." I thanked him, feeling George slip his hand not my shoulder now in reassurance and in a peaceful manner, "I think I'm going to go and take a load off for a few hours since I sent the trucks back after the patrol."
"You deserve a load off any who," Lipton said to me as Jones looked over at Webster.
"What platoon are you in?" He asked.
"We're about to find out," Webster said back to him in return now as Captain Spiers walked in now, looking at both Lipton and I before moving his eyes over to the Lieutenant with careful eyes.
"Cap. Spiers, this is Lt. Jones," Lipton introduced him, hoping it would be some kind of nice greeting now but Spiers looked over at him with a stern look on his face, no longer at Jones.
"Listen, for Christ's sake, would ya go in the back, back there and shack up? There are beds back there and fresh sheets," Spiers explained to Lipton now, whom sadly smiled and nodded his head.
"I will, sir. Just try and make myself useful, sir," Lipton reassured him as I shot up from my spot near him and standing there in the room. George looked over at me now with a hint of concern there as I was about to go out of the room.
"I'll see you guys later, gotta go and check up on the trucks from the patrol." I said to him, both Lipton and Spiers now as it seemed like I was trying to avoid the people in the room there since it felt like I was about to be swallowed up within a hole beneath my feet.
"You alright, Sgt. O' Malley?" Spiers asked me now, no longer focusing on the Sick Lipton or even the brand new Lieutenant Jones for that matter. He was looking at me, a bit on the concerned side now as I gave him a short nod and a small smile.
"I'm fine, sir. I just need to go and get some work done with the trucks." I said to him now, hopefully, that was enough for him to leave me be. He nodded his head, yet he knew something else was going on there as I was just, once again, trying to get our of there and find my own space and mind again. I moved down the room a bit now and over to the door. It was getting hard to breathe, and I had no idea why it was hard for me to be in the room with those men. Maybe it was because things changed with all the men, their hearts hardening and this backs turning away from what they thought was once war and right, or the fact that I still felt out of place there with all of the men around me.
I just needed space again.
As the day was coming to a close, the other didn't make an attempt to find me to make sure I was okay. I knew they were trying to let me have a few hours or so alone since I had so real reason to be around them since they had their own tasks and their own jobs. As for me, I was just in charge of the trucks and jeeps. It was no real job if I thought about it, and I knew Sink did that just to keep me with the men and make sure I had a real place to stay. I should be happy that I was going to stay there, with a group that was safe enough, but then again I wasn't.
"Found you," I looked behind me to see Captain Nixon there, standing at the doorway now with a small grin on his face.
"Hello, sir." I said to him from my spot at the window, moving away from it since what I was looking at all of the boys going over to the showers they set up for them.
"I wanted to come by and see if you were willing to start your pistol shooting lessons," He explained, the both of us standing in the middle of the room with all of the makeshift and ruined furniture that was in there, "Dick thinks you should practice now before we go out on our patrol tonight."
"Sounds good, sir," I replied to Nixon.
"Yeah you seem like you need something to distract you since that lieutenant came into Easy." Nixon said in a hint go annoyance when that lieutenant was mentioned in our conversation. I could tell he was no big fan of the new officer in our company, and I was still on the fence about him really.
"He seems like he's getting along with everybody, doesn't he?" I asked him, almost a bit bitterly now as he raised an eyebrow at me. I was kind of shock on how I was talking, it was not how I would usually talk at all considering how I am usually with the others in Easy. This was a brand new kind of personality that was coming through over me.
"Wow, looks who's coming into her own now," Nixon commented to me, having me sigh and shake my head in defeat.
"That sounded rude and not me at all," I confessed, feeling bad about it since it was Nixon of all people that I snapped at and sounded more bitter than anything. Nixon was a bitter type, but not the same bitter as Cobb. His bitter, on the other hand, was more towards how he was supposed to take orders from people and sometimes he would go against them, that or turn a head away from it all.
"No, it's fine by me." He reasoned with me, but once again I shook my head.
"It not by me…." I stopped before I went off on another rant, seeing him eye me in shock now as I cleared my throat and tried to finish my sentence with dignity, "…sir."
"Adaline, it's really okay." He said to me in more of a sincere tone than anything, gesturing out the door with his hand there by his side, "Come on, let's go practice." I walked over to the door now, not wanting to talk about it anymore really and how I too was having a rough time trying to get through the war after all that happened to me. I had to keep going, I had to keep staying alive at all costs and not to lose my brain or my mind.
And it all started with target practice.
"Try it again," I aimed the pistol with my right hand, shooting right at the empty glass bottles that Nixon set up for me now as he was standing on the side there and watching with his eyes now. I was trying to focus on the shooting practice that I had, let alone try and make myself a better soldier now than a pilot since I was no longer going to fly a plane anytime soon. I only wondered how this was going to look with the others in Easy. But it was going to be answered soon now as I saw some of the Easy Company soldiers, little by little, walking over to watch me do my target practice.
"Don't be stiff in the arm," Nixon explained to me as I took another shot, cursing under my breath now as I was looking at the target with my eyes. My hair was flowing in a messy french braid, my combat uniform was stained a bit from the dirt now as we were shooting in a courtyard with ruined buildings around us both. The buildings go up to five stories now, and most of the walls were blown off and Easy men were sitting on the edges now, watching me in interest.
"There you go, Sergeant." Nixon said to me in a grin as I got the edge of a target, hearing the glass shatter now as I looked at the pistol in my hand now. This was not what I bargained for, not what I signed up for really. It felt surreal, almost like I was changing into a new person that I was not ready to change into. I had to pause and stare at the pistol now with wide eyes.
"Sergeant?" Nixon asked, seeing me pause and look a the gun like I was looking at a ghost now. I didn't care if I was looking like a freak in front of Nixon and the other soldiers that were watching me now. All I was caring about was how this was shaping me and how I was playing my role in the war.
"Never thought I would shoot one of these." I said him in a low tone as he walked over to see what was going on with me. He at first was confused, but then he could read it on my face and how I was standing there in front of him. He placed one hand, very carefully and gently on my arm that was holding up the gun now and he helped me lower it to my side, his eyes still on me and watching every move.
"Don't overthink it," He recommended to me, "You are doing what you have to do in this war."
"To kill people." I finished for him, seeing him shake his head.
"Not for you," I looked over at him now and seeing him give me his serious dark eyes now but they were not going to belittle me, "You are not mean to be a soldier out here with us, and we all know that. But this," he pointed to the pistol in my hand now, "This is meant for you to protect yourself. Nothing more or less."
"You think I can handle this?" I asked him, unconvinced on what he was saying about me merely needing this for defense. I wasn't like the others, I was not trained with a gun or trained to kill anyone. This was not my own kind of field and here I was, being thrown into it.
"I think so, and so do the rest of the men looking at you now," He answered, having me look up to where he was gesturing. Most, if not all, of Easy Company was watching at this point from there random spots along the building ruined walls, watching with powdered looks and glances right at me. I could see their faces: Bull, Malarky, Shifty, Babe, Garcia, Rameriez, Hobbler, Cobb, Webster, Joe Liebgott, Spina, Doc, Christenson and Perconte were all watching me and not showing any kind of unpleasantness on their faces. The one face that got me though, that made this feel a bit better, was George.
He was sitting next to Perconte, watching me with worry on his face then as he was perched on the edge of the building and his boots hanging off the wall. How was he thinking of me now then? I wanted to talk to him about it, see what he was thinking and know how he was feeling about it, but that would have to wait for another time.
"Now, let's try again."
When I was done with my practice, I was left with the pistol on my hip and the men coming up to me and saying that they thought I did a good job, slaps on the back and handshakes. Babe even grinned from ear to ear when he gave me a hug, telling me I was a natural shooter and gunslinger. It all sounded nice hearing it from them, since they could tell I was a bit on the edge with how I was now having a gun in m possession, but they are kind enough to let me know that I did a great job, all in their own ways.
George was the last one to reach me, and we were once again alone in a room when the others were long gone and they went back to CP. It was nice to no longer be under the microscope of all the men in Easy when they are watching me and seeing how I was shooting a gun. But now it was just George and I, and within a few seconds of the both of us looking at each other, George engulfed me in his arms and kissed my head as I just hugged him. I was just glad to have that kind of anchor that George was able to give me, a shield from the rest of the war that I was missing for the past few months.
"I think you did good," He whispered to me in almost a murmur now as we were still hugging in the middle of the room, "You think you did well?"
"It feels weird, holding a gun now," I replied back to him as we were facing each other now. He grinned, having me see that warmth that he had about him soak into me as well. He moved my stray hair from my eyes and his fingers traced the thin scar lines from the crash.
"I never wanted you to hold a gun in my opinion," George confessed, having me look at him in confusion now since he praised me seconds ago, "But now you can protect yourself."
"Like I couldn't before," I commented back to him now as I found my own arms around his neck and his hands on my waist again, a comfortable place for the both of us in his cold and gray kind of place in the war.
"You have always been to survive anything was thrown at you, which is why I love you." He explained now, having me grin and kiss him softly. This was new for the both of us, using the L word on each other and being fine with it. I wasn't afraid to use it since he was the one who used to physically on me first. I only used that word on paper, but he used it on his lips and towards me like it was the best thing he has ever said in the world. And for me, it was the same too.
"I love you too, George Luz."