Amazing Beta's: Atman, FandomlyCroft and Laura001 are all amazing people who helped polish this story until it gleamed. I seriously couldn't have done it without you folks. All my love and gratitude to each of you. Any remaining mistakes are mine.
Last Time: Sergeant Grant was shot in the night while Easy Company's veterans decide what to do in the face of the looming Pacific front.
"Anyone can deal with victory. Only the mighty can bear defeat." ― Adolf Hitler
"When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall. Think of it-always." ― Mahatma Gandhi
Now: After almost three years, Easy Company is going home.
-Chapter 55-
Easy Company was falling apart. All high-point men who wanted to be rotated home were in the process of being transferred into the 501st and sent back to Berchtesgaden. The 501st was being deactivated and was going to serve as a vehicle to transport those men back to the United States.
But that didn't stop division from insisting that what was left of the 506th undergo a full training regimen. They were still being redeployed to the Pacific and more than three-quarters of the division was made up of men who'd never seen combat before.
So, it was back to daily close-order drills and calisthenics. Road marches were undertaken. Arm and hand signals were reviewed. Squad tactics were covered, augmented by input from those veterans who'd seen the tactics in action to discuss – in depth – what worked and why. Barracks inspections were undertaken. Mess kits were inspected. Boots were shined; uniforms were treated with care. Military courtesy and discipline were enforced in a way they'd never been in the field. Basic first aid courses were given, though Roe basically boiled everything down to one bit of advice, "Your job ain't to fix the guy, just get him to where he can get off the field. Let doctors and surgeons worry about putting him back together."
Dry runs with their rifles and firing on the range – which Eve got suckered into supervising far too often for it to be a coincidence – and, of course, map reading, orienteering, and triangulation rounded out their training regime.
While Eve understood that the new recruits needed the practice, the veterans who'd been at war for nearly a year now already had these skills down cold; death if you failed or forgot how to fix your gun was a great motivator after all, and not one that could be taught. To go over them again, ad nauseam without the pressure of war was unspeakably boring.
To help alleviate that boredom, Winters found reasons, usually useless missions, for Toccoa men to get out of the Army and quietly make their way home. He hoarded invitations for soldiers to visit, or explain something, or be honored, and doled them out with prejudice for Easy's Toccoa men, the men who'd been with him since the beginning.
Eve was sorry to see her friends go, even as she was relieved that they were avoiding the Pacific. Just because she felt it was her duty to stay didn't mean that she wanted to watch any more of her friends die on some island.
Her tearful goodbye with Malarkey had been the hardest. He made her promise to write to him, even gave her a slip of paper with his address on it as he swore up and down to do the same and tried to wheedle further promises from her before he got on a jeep and headed to Paris.
"You swear you'll visit?" he pressed.
"First chance I get," she reassured him. He pulled her into a fierce hug.
It was easy to wrap her arms around him and hug him back, even as she struggled not to cry.
Though she was glad Winters was sending him off to Paris, to safety, she was going to miss him. It wasn't home, but it was a good alternative in the interim.
"Don't take any flack from anyone, you hear?" he whispered into her shoulder, still not letting her go.
She laughed, almost a sob as she pulled away and wiped at her eyes. "It'll be good not to have to see your ugly mug anymore," she teased.
"Yeah, yeah," he said clapping her shoulder again as he scanned her face. "I'm gonna miss you, Ev."
"You too, Malark," she said, meaning it with everything in her.
"If you don't come visit me-," he started to threaten.
"I already said I would," she reassured him, smothering a smile and rolling her eyes with affect.
"Well, don't forget," he admonished. They both knew he was just putting off the inevitable.
"Do you have any plans for while you're in Paris?" she asked, putting it off herself.
He shrugged. "Not really. I'll probably just end up wandering around like all the rest of the bums loitering around that city. Blow more of my back pay probably. Maybe I'll even go back to that pub. That Rose one we went to. Seemed like a nice enough place."
She smiled at him. "Tell them I said hello?"
"You got it," he agreed.
There was a long pause where they looked at each other. Eve wasn't sure what Malarkey saw, but she was doing her best to memorize his face. He'd been one of her most stalwart friends for a very long time. They'd gone through hell together and she knew she was going to miss him, desperately.
Malarkey finally spoke. "I'm sure glad you were with us, Ev. I didn't think you'd make it, but I'm sure glad you did. Thank you, for everything."
Eve wasn't sure how to deal with the look in Malarkey's eyes, the same kind of loss she felt so keenly in her own heart, but settled for a smile. "You too, Malark. I mean that."
He cleared his throat, shook her hand, gave her one last hug, and then threw his luggage over his shoulder and headed for the jeep bound for the railroad and Paris.
He turned back when the jeep was halfway down the road, saw her watching, and waved, more a flippant salute than a goodbye.
Eve laughed despite herself and stayed until the jeep turned and she couldn't see him anymore.
With a sigh, she pushed the nagging fear of never seeing him again far away and headed the opposite way, towards where Easy Company had set up a garrison of green tents on the airfield just outside town. There was bound to be something more interesting, distracting, than going through more redundant paperwork.
She'd barely started down the road herself when another jeep pulled up next to her.
"Hey, Ev," Nixon cried from the passenger seat. "Hop in!"
Eve smiled at the trio ensconced in the jeep, mood already brightening at the sight of them. She shot a glance at Winters – who was driving – for confirmation that she was okay to join them. The redhead just grinned at her. Seeing identical amusement on Lipton – riding in the back – Eve obeyed, clambering over the side to settle in next to the former First Sergeant, shaking her head at the lot of them.
"Where are we going?" she asked, not particularly caring what the answer was.
"A German General's surrendering his whole division," Nixon answered. "Apparently, he objects to surrendering to Private Babe Heffron."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Can't imagine why."
"That's what I said," agreed Nixon. "But Dick here thinks he'd feel better if he could surrender to Second Lieutenant Carwood Lipton."
Eve shot a look at Lipton, who was beaming and shook her head. Men, she thought with more fondness than was perhaps warranted.
They arrived at the field to find an array of German troops – some wounded, all a little battered –standing in perfect formation, facing away from the arriving vehicle, apparently awaiting orders.
There was a German officer awaiting them watching them approach. Liebgott stood with him, at ease, not bothering with threatening or interacting with the man whatsoever.
Lipton hopped out, leaping over the side of the jeep with practiced ease to meet them.
Liebgott approached the jeep, greeting Lipton with both his rank and a salute, on his heels was a silver haired, steel faced man who could only be the surrendering General.
Eve watched the General give Winters a respectful nod, completely bypassing Lipton despite the lieutenant standing directly in his path. He was an intimidating presence, scanning the jeep with piercing blue eyes.
The man embodied the pride she'd come to expect from the German army, holding himself the way of someone who'd fought tooth and nail to win the war, willing to go on if asked, but weary of it. He was dressed impeccably in his uniform, dressed with all of the trappings of his high position, each button and medal polished to a high shine.
He was too disciplined to do more than widen his eyes when his gaze caught on Eve, but she saw it on his face nonetheless. "Eine Fräuline?" Eve heard him mutter under his breath, glancing at the other officers with no small amount of confusion.
Liebgott replied with something in cutting German to the apparent amusement of the General, who smiled at Eve and gave her a nod before backing down.
He did not address her again.
Instead, he turned to look at Winters, opening his mouth to say something.
Winters cut him off at the knees with a wave of his arm, calmly indicating that the General was to address Lieutenant Lipton.
It was still a slap to the man, that Lipton, a Second Lieutenant, would be the one to accept his surrender, rather than the Major who was also present, but it was better than a Private.
"With your permission," said the General to Lipton, in perfect English. "I would like to address my men, briefly." He seemed worried they would deny him the courtesy.
"That'll be fine, General," answered Lipton, his tone soft and soothing; trying not to ruffle any more feathers than already had been. It was neither of their faults that this was how command wanted things done.
The General nodded, first at Lipton and then respectfully at Winters again, before turning with a click of his highly polished boots and marching across the field to the slight rise where he could address his men and they would all be able to see and hear him, Lipton following behind.
"We just can't take you anywhere, Ev," said Nixon, turning to smirk at her.
Eve was about to reply when the supply truck they were parked behind pulled out, revealing none other than Captain Sobel.
Winters's shoulders tensed; Eve's glance at Nixon and then over to Liebgott showed that he wasn't alone.
The Toccoa men had never forgiven or gotten over Sobel's methods, officers like Winters and Nixon least of all.
Eve didn't necessarily feel the same hatred. Sobel had been a bastard, but once she'd integrated with the men, he had treated her with the same unfairness that he did with all the other men. It was poor treatment to be sure, but Eve could appreciate it more on the other side of the war he'd been trying to prepare them for. She certainly didn't like the man, but she couldn't fault methods that had produced the finest (and most highly decorated) soldiers in the whole Army from raw civilians, even if they'd been sometimes petty and always unpleasant at the time.
But she remembered all too well the constant struggles between Sobel and Winters. Sobel had set out to punish Winters for being a good commander and it had backfired when the company mutinied against him.
The soldier following behind Sobel saluted the jeep. Winters replied in kind, but even from behind him, Eve knew his gaze was fixed on Sobel, who was desperately trying to ignore them.
His humiliation that Winters had advanced beyond him in rank must have been excruciating.
"Captain Sobel," Winters called, not about to let him get away with ignoring such a serious breach of etiquette, not after Sobel had been such a stickler about it at Toccoa.
"Major Winters," acknowledged Sobel with a nod, trying to hurry past.
"Captain Sobel," Winters continued, making it clear that they were having this conversation whether Sobel wanted to or not. "You salute the rank, not the man."
Sobel, closed his eyes as though in pain. Trapped by the rules he so dearly loved, resentfully, he gave his onetime XO a textbook salute, looking like it hurt him to do so.
Winters gave a terse salute in reply, satisfied, and let the man walk away. Sobel had acknowledged his achievements, realized what Winters, a man he'd belittled, had accomplished a great deal without Sobel's form of leadership.
Eve let out a sigh she hadn't realized she was holding, glad to have gone unnoticed.
Her gaze caught on Liebgott as he watched Sobel hurry off, a slight sneer of contempt on his face, before he glanced at Winters.
There was something in that gaze that looked like gratitude.
Eve remembered once at a train station, long ago, when Liebgott had threatened to fumble with grenades if he had to go into combat with the incompetent Sobel, remembered her fear that it could be her getting that grenade if she messed up.
That they should all end up here, at the end of it all, serving under a man they'd trusted from the beginning, seemed too good to be true. If she hadn't been there as it happened, she would've put it down to answered prayers.
That summed up her emotions regarding the exchange pretty well, actually.
Winters turned and caught Nixon's gaze.
Nixon gave the barest shake of his head, slightest hint of a smile on his face as he turned to look back at Winters and then Eve. She read the meaning behind his look as easily as if he'd been speaking. After all this time, Sobel hasn't changed a bit.
"Manner!" called the German General, beginning his speech. He'd mounted a dyke overlooking his men with Lipton and was addressing them as a great orator might.
"Liebgott?" Winters prompted with a glance.
Liebgott rested his gun on the side of the jeep and leaned against it, settling in as he began translating, hurrying through the words to catch up with the General's pace. "Men, it's been a long war, it's been a tough war."
Captain Speirs came up on the jeep from the other side, startling Eve as he leaned on the jeep next to her. He gave her an amused smile, copied by Nixon when he turned to see what had made her jump.
"We have fought bravely, and proudly, for your country. You are a special group. Who've found in one another a bond, that exists only in combat. Among brothers, we've shared foxholes, held each other in dire moments, seen death and suffered together. I'm proud to have served with each and every one of you. You deserve long and happy lives in peace."
Eve felt every word of that speech ripple through her. It was as if this enemy general had reached into her soul and stolen the words, the way she felt, about the brothers she'd found in Easy Company and spoken them aloud.
She regretted suddenly that it was just these few of them here, that all of Easy wasn't here to hear the speech – she'd never be able to recite it with the eloquence it deserved, knew that even her best attempt would fall flat. It was an odd experience hearing this man, this enemy saying something that applied as much to the soldiers who had won the war, as it did to those who'd lost it. She wondered if all soldiers felt this way. For the first time in a long time, she realized that the men on the other side of the war were just like her, just like her friends, just trying to do their best and do right by their commanders and their families back home.
For the first time, Eve wondered if they couldn't put the bitter differences, the bitter struggle between the two sides behind them one day and see everyone as brothers in combat, no matter what side of the line they'd been on.
After the first few weeks of being in Austria, once it became clear that the Germans and the Austrians were far happier to be of use to the Americans than a hindrance – especially when it meant being paid in food and cigarettes – the natives had taken over many of the extra duties, such as laundry, cleaning quarters, and the various construction tasks that the army typically assigned to bored soldiers to keep them busy.
Winters solved this problem by having Second Battalion build a track, a tennis court, a baseball field, and a rifle range. Then, he reinstated the tradition from Toccoa of holding weekly competitions between companies, battalions, regiments, all the way up to ETO (European Theater of Operations).
The serious athletes in the company used it as an opportunity to train. They were excused from all duties, lived in a separate athletic dorm, and got to practice every day. It was a sportsman's paradise.
Eve spent most of her down time at the rifle range, testing her skill against the best the battalion had to offer.
Men disinclined to such a lifestyle found other ways to keep themselves occupied. Some took to wandering through the quaint towns nestled into the Alps, some spent their time hunting (this was actually a necessity because there wasn't enough food getting to the Alps, situated so far down the supply line, so all the willing paratroopers were drafted into hunting parties), some just drank as much liquor as they could get their hands on, but most ended up chasing women.
There was also a lake to swim in and a ski lodge that could be reached by climbing the mountain trail. Winters set up a program to rotate one platoon every three days to the lodge for R and R. The lodge still had its Austrian servants and cooks, ski instructors, and hunting guides employed, which made these rotations akin to small vacations. Eve tried her hand at the mountain sport, but found that while skiing was a lot of fun – when she wasn't falling down – it was nowhere near as easy as the experienced skiers claimed it would be. She was disgusted to find herself exhausted after just a few hours on the mountain.
The party was never ending. Drink and booze ever flowing.
Most of the guys worked off their hangovers with an afternoon swim in the lake or a game of softball on the new field. The boys donned shorts and nothing else when they frolicked in the alpine sunshine. Eve envied them quite fiercely as she sweated in her cotton ODs.
All but a very few of the shirtless boys boasted scars, some as many as four, stark reminders of injuries suffered in the line of duty littering their legs, arms, backs or chests. It was chilling to be reminded anew how close she'd come to losing them more than once. Even more chilling because she knew these were the men who hadn't been seriously wounded, had been deemed fit to fight after they'd had chunk of themselves ripped out in the line of fire.
She tried to shake the feelings off before they overwhelmed her. The smiles on her friends faces helped remind her that they were alive and young and joyful still, unlike those who were missing now, lost in the fields across Europe, not as lucky as the men before her.
She shook those feelings off too, valiantly fighting to enjoy these moments when they were all together, having fun the way young people should.
Boredom crept in. Eve was lucky enough to snag a week long furlough and spent it on a trip back to Aldbourne, England to visit Margaret and Charles Williams, the family she'd stayed with before Normandy and Holland.
It was a week full of not much. She spent a lot of time in the garden, helping out around the small home, or sleeping.
No one seemed to mind.
The time she spent in the couple's home revitalized her spirit in the way the only home could. She'd almost forgotten what it was like, having a place where she was openly loved and accepted, without the responsibilities or hardships of war hanging over her head. She'd forgotten what it was like being able to lose herself in the little nothings of civilian life. She'd spent almost three years on the cusp of some action, body and mind always prepared for it, but the constant readiness had frayed something in her. What made her efficient on the battlefield made her very poor company.
Margaret spent hours just nattering at Eve until she was able to loosen her grip on her emotions and slip back into the ebb and flow of weightless conversation – where there were no wrong answers and no lives hanging in the balance.
She began to feel human again.
It was an invaluable gift.
When she left a week later, she did so with the knowledge that even though this would be goodbye for now, she was a part of a family here.
She could always come home.
Returning back to Easy Company occurred with little fanfare. She felt settled in a way that had been missing for a long time. Her friends were keen to figure out her secret.
No one really understood why she'd gone back to Aldbourne, well, no one but Winters, who had apparently taken his own trip to the town a couple weeks ago. They shared a look of understanding.
There was just nothing like going home.
XxX
As the days melded into weeks, Easy Company spent the majority of their time doing various sports to keep the edge of boredom at bay.
This morning, they had a surprise arrival. Buck Compton had decided to come back to visit his old Easy Company pals now that he was officially a civilian.
"Ev!" he'd called, sweeping her into a bear-hug and whirling her around before she'd even caught sight of him.
She flailed, kicking out to get the madman to put her down. "Let go, ya loony!" she demanded, feeling nauseous.
He did so with a laugh, plopping her back down on unsteady legs and beaming down at her without the slightest hint of remorse.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded when she got a look at his smug mug.
He clapped her on the shoulder, almost sending her to the ground. "Got my discharge after the hospital fixed me up. I figured I'd better head over and make sure you lugs are still doing all right without me to watch your backs. Had to make my own way here, though. You wouldn't mind sharing some of those card winnings I know you've got to help me get home, would ya?" he teased her.
She pushed him, beaming herself. "Make your own winnings, you scallywag!"
He pulled her into a hug, laughing. "I missed you, kid."
She grinned into his shoulder. "Back at ya, Buck."
"So, First Sergeant," he said, using her title with a particular relish. "What's on the agenda today?"
She shrugged. "I heard a rumor about a pickup game of ball on the pitch today. Interested?" she asked, knowing he would be.
Typically, Eve found a place to watch the boys play on the baseball diamond. She knew even if she tried to play, they'd never pick her for a team. Fighting among them was all well and good, but Eve had never professed a proficiency at baseball. She was more than content to watch.
Plus, it was sweltering today. She'd had to attend another ceremonial surrender and was thus dressed in her formal greens once more, stifling jacket and all.
"Lead the way, First Sergeant," he said gallantly.
Eve grinned, excited to see the boys' reactions to the return of their friend. Buck had been discharged after his bout of "trench foot" in Bastogne.
After exchanging many very enthusiastic greetings, Buck donned the catcher's body armor and mitt, a bright blue baseball cap reversed over his towheaded hair. All the guys knew he'd played baseball in college, so they'd refused to let him play pitcher; it wouldn't be fair.
Eve was just glad he was back. She'd been worried about him. He'd been pulled off the line right after they'd lost Bill and Joe Toye in Bastogne, and though they'd said it was trench foot, everyone knew it had been battle fatigue that had knocked Buck out of the fight.
But as she watched, lounging on a conveniently parked jeep, Eve realized – to her considerable relief – the man playing baseball was far more the Buck she remembered in Aldbourne than he'd been in a long time.
His time outside the army seemed to have done him a world of good.
"He looks good," Speirs said, startling her.
In her musing, he'd somehow managed to sneak up and settle against the jeep she'd been leaning on. He smirked when she scowled at him.
A cry from the field drew their attention back to the festivities on the field. Soon, they were laughing at the antics perpetrated by cheaters on both teams as they fought to win. Like when Garcia tried to push Luz off the base he was heading for despite Luz having the ball already in hand and standing on the base in question, and Perconte when he slid in to third just in time to be tagged out by Liebgott a few batters later.
She cheered as Gene hit the ball with a whack, knocking it clear.
It was good to see the boys having fun, carefree in a way that they'd been denied utterly since enlisting, allowed to enjoy being kids again after all playfulness and joy had been all but extinguished by the war.
Nixon and Winters approached, getting their attention Speirs and Eve immediately straightened.
"Get 'em round," ordered Winters.
"Easy Company," called Speirs. "School circle!"
Wasting no time, the guys fell in despite the interruption of their game – such was life in the army.
"Fast man would have had it, Perco," teased Winters to lighten the mood that had immediately darkened as the men circled up for the inevitable news.
Nixon took up residence next to Eve's spot, leaning on the jeep heavily, his dark sunglasses hinting at the hangover he was likely suffering.
"Listen up," said Winters, "I've got some news." He took a breath and smiled, looking over these men he'd been with for so long. "This morning, President Truman received the unconditional surrender from the Japanese. War's over."
The silence that met this proclamation was stunned.
They were all going home; points a nonissue. Wounded, medals or otherwise, everyone was going home.
The war was over.
It was over.
The shock turned into to jubilation.
Eve scanned Winters's face and found him beaming at them all. Easy Company was going home. Going to be disbanded upon return to the States rather than sent out to fight in a war that had seemed like it would go on forever.
But it was over.
She'd survived. The agonizing wait was over. No one was going to the Pacific. Her friends were all going home safe.
Some guys ran back to the diamond to finish their game but most ran back to the tents to pack up their gear and celebrate.
A grin split her face as Eve turned and ran after her friends, racing towards a bright future, unclouded by war, for the first time in three years.
"What about the game!" Buck called despite being at the front of the pack.
Eve poured on the speed, running for the exhilaration of it rather than the necessity for the first time in recent memory, relishing the feel of the wind sweeping her hair back and the freedom.
"Fuck the game!" cried Liebgott. "We gotta celebrate!"
Eve laughed, the sound brighter than sunshine as she raced ahead.
She did not dwell on what was to come. Did not stop to wonder what going home would be like without Alex there to greet her, with Liza engaged, if she hadn't married "Richard" already, and her parents four years older than when she'd left them.
Nothing was the same. The world had changed while she'd been at war, and Eve had changed along with it.
Despite it all, all the hardships and loss, she could not bring herself to regret a single moment.
Good and bad, it had been one hell of an adventure, one she was relieved was finally over.
She ran for the joy of it.
They were all going home safe and sound. It was just a matter of time.
XxX
That night, the 506 pulled together the booze that had survived V-E day and threw the party to end all parties.
To be honest, Eve didn't remember much of that whirlwind night.
She remembered smiles and laughter and stories.
She remembered her friends being together and alive and happy.
She remembered wanting to pause time so she could live in the moment forever, where there was nothing to fear on the horizon and the certainty that nothing to come could ever compare to what they'd just survived.
She didn't dwell on the missing faces, didn't dwell on the ending she could feel deep in her stomach, a feeling not dissimilar to dread as she looked out on tomorrow and realized that nothing would be the same. That she was going to be leaving these people, these friends she'd come to care for so much, trading one family for another.
There was a restlessness, a yawning wondering of 'what are we going to do now?' that seemed to hang over the group like a cloud, deliberately ignored, but as persistent as the rain in seeping through shelter and sticking to the skin.
After three years of missions and goals, there was nothing left to do but go back home and try to live, live for those who weren't here dancing with them in body but ever present in spirit as they drank to the memory of friends long gone and well missed. Eve tried to imagine doing something at home, something that had as much meaning as this, but could think of absolutely nothing.
She pushed it all away, focusing fiercely on her jubilance.
Tonight wasn't for the past or the future. Tonight was about being alive, in this moment, with the world at their feet.
They had nothing left to fear.
The war was over.
They were going home.
Colonel Sink crashed the party before everyone was too drunk to remember their own names and gave a farewell speech. Eve wrote it down so she'd remember the words forever. It was far better than that Kraut's speech, in her opinion.
"It is with mingled feelings that your regimental commander observes the departure of you fine officers and men. He is happy for each of you. You have worked and fought and won the right to return to your homes and to your friends.
"I am sorry to see you go because you are friends and comrades-at-arms.
"Most of you have caught hell at one time or another from me. I hope you considered it just hell and fair. It was never intended to be otherwise.
"I told you people to get those Presidential Citations and you did it. It will forever be to your credit and honor.
"Then God speed you on your way: May the same Fellow who led you by the hand in Normandy, Holland, Bastogne, and Germany look kindly upon you and guard you until the last great jump!"
A cheer went up, a toast was made, and Eve and Easy Company drank to being done with war once and for all.
XxX
The Toccoa men had gathered together around a little table in the corner, drinking and gossiping as the replacements partied around them for a victory that hadn't been earned with the blood of their friends.
They toasted the fallen, remembering their missing buddies with fondness and rehashing old stories they'd all heard a thousand times before.
Eventually, the conversation meandered to what they were all going to do when they got home. Everyone had wild ideas, a few had jobs lined up. Some had girls waiting; others were eagerly awaiting the inevitable pull their paratrooper uniforms had on the ladies. Addresses and phone numbers were exchanged. Everyone wanted to keep in contact with each other even as rambunctious antics enticed threats of purposefully misplacing said precious phone numbers and promises to never speak to each other again.
Eve laughed and encouraged them as much as possible.
"So, Ev," said Leibgott when it was her turn. "What're you gonna do?"
She smiled and shrugged carelessly. "I'm not sure."
"What?" demanded Liebgott. "I thought you were going to stay in the army?"
Eve had thought about it; she'd been thinking about it off and on since they'd arrived in Austria, going through all she'd seen and done in the last three years, good and bad and found herself torn.
Now that the war was over, Easy Company was going to be disbanded. Most, if not all, of her friends would be going back home.
She didn't know if she wanted to stay without them.
It would certainly be a challenge if she stayed, one that she knew she could overcome. She'd already received Speirs's promise to back her. Colonel Sink's backing was implied when he'd offered her a commission, but Eve had done what she'd set out to do. She'd proven to herself and the world that she could do it. She'd made those lasting friendships she'd always longed for. She would gladly do anything for any one of the men she'd served with.
But the new guys she had watched come in and bolster their ranks seemed vapid and shallow. They were a completely different breed of soldier than the one she'd served with. She didn't think she could put up with them long enough to train them, let alone fight with them. She didn't think her heart could take another war, another moment of watching her friends perish around her, waiting anxiously for the bullet that would eventually have her name on it. It was the acutest kind of agony.
To be perfectly honest, she was bored. Bored with the work; bored with the lifestyle.
She never thought she'd say that in a million years, but it was true.
She wanted to go see the country she'd fought for. She wanted a chance to live life under her own orders for a little while.
There was plenty of time to figure out what she wanted to do when she got home. She figured the worst thing that happened was that she'd do a bit of nothing for a while.
Which sounded okay by her. She'd done enough. They all had.
"No," said Eve, the resolution of her words ringing true as she surveyed her still watching friends. "I don't think I will. I can't take another war."
"There isn't another war," said Roe.
"There's always another war, Gene," Eve argued. "It's not going to be tomorrow, but mankind can't leave well enough alone. There will always be a need for soldiers."
He didn't say anything because they all knew the truth.
Their parents' generation had been certain that the Great War would be the war that would end all wars. It had been barely twenty years before the world had been plunged into conflict again.
"Jesus," Liebgott sighed, rubbing his eyes. Eve glanced around the table to see many similar expressions of disgust and despair. She immediately felt bad for ruining the mood. They were supposed to be celebrating the end of this war, not dwelling on something that hadn't even happened yet.
"Anyway, I've had enough of this. It's time to do something different." She changed the subject, focusing on Roe, who also hadn't volunteered any plans yet. "What are you going to do when you go home, then Doc?"
He shrugged. "Find a job, I suppose."
"Doing anything in particular? Doctoring, maybe?"
He laughed, a hollow sound. "No."
Well, she certainly understood that sentiment. She'd never wanted to be suckered into being a nurse and two years of combat had only reaffirmed that. Sure, she could handle the blood, but watching her friend be torn apart wasn't something anyone could ever get used to.
She changed the subject. "There's bound to be plenty of jobs when we get home."
"I don't know, Ev," said Roe. "They've had to get by without all of us for three years. Pickings might be pretty slim. Everyone off fighting is gonna come back needing a job."
Eve felt uncomfortable all of a sudden. She'd never had the need to work for a living, never needed a job to survive through the week or feed herself. In the army, where all of that was taken care of for you, it was easy to forget that the men she served with were going home to an uncertain future.
"If you ever need something, Gene," she began, unsure how to offer help without offending her friend's pride.
He smiled and ducked his head. "Same to you, Ev," he offered in turn. "If you're ever in Louisiana –"
"I'll be sure to look you up, Gene," she agreed.
"Be sure you look me up too, Ev," said Liebgott, a teasing smirk on his face.
"And me," chimed in Babe.
Soon she had a chorus of offers.
She laughed, knowing that despite the teasing, the offers were genuine.
XxX
When Eve got on the Wooster Victory, the ship that was carrying her home, she worried about her friends. She worried about herself, about the future. What would it be like to be home? Would her parents recognize her? Would she recognize them? She couldn't help but compare this voyage with the one on the S.S. Samaria a few years ago. It had been two years since that trip across the sea, but Eve felt as though she'd aged two decades, a lifetime of war encapsulated in a mere twenty-two months.
She was not the same woman who'd left them three years ago. She knew things must've changed – it had been years after all – but she couldn't even fathom how anything could be different from what she'd left behind. There were missing pieces, of course, with a brother who was never coming home and her godfather still being mourned.
The world had changed while she'd been away. As an instrument of that change, Eve no longer knew that she'd fit where she'd once been.
She couldn't imagine life as it was before, it was too foreign now, she too different.
In her pocket, she had a notebook full of addresses and vague plans to tour the country and visit her friends.
Who knew what the future would bring to the men of Easy Company now that they'd been sent back into the real world of family's and expectations? A man who had suffered less than she had might be tempted to label the last three years as a grand adventure, but the moments of terror still lingered when she closed her eyes, and she still saw the faces of each one of those boys she'd trained with who'd never even made it onto the beach in Normandy, let alone the others who had died throughout the war.
She was glad to be going home, but there was already an ache in her stomach, and a burning desire to share the tidbits of her day with her friends who were no longer within arm's reach.
Christ, she missed them already.
XxX
Five Years Later:
Eve's fingers twitched at the hem of her skirt, making sure the darn thing was still lying flat after the long ride up to Philadelphia. It had taken her hours to settle on something appropriate to wear.
The dress she'd picked – something simple but flattering in red – was something she'd agonized over. She cursed herself twofold for picking a skirt rather than slacks or trousers. She wanted to make a good impression, but she was worried she'd overdone it.
She'd never worn a dress around her fellow paratroopers, well, not one that fit anyway and she was already regretting thinking that now of all times was a good time to try it out. She'd even gone to the trouble of doing a bit of makeup and styling her hair. She wondered if anyone would recognize it now that it was long enough to be styled properly. She resisted the urge to check that it was all still in place for the millionth time.
All in all, Eve knew she was in for a very uncomfortable night and it was no one's fault but her own.
Deep down, she knew that fretting about the dress was just a distraction from what was really worrying her. It was easier to worry about something ultimately meaningless than tackling her worry that her friends would irrationally despair over her choice of future husband, or worse still, would inexplicably not remember her at all and exclude her once more.
It was silliness. She knew no one would care what she wore, not after everything they'd seen of each other in the backwoods of Europe, but she couldn't help but want to make an impression on the people who mattered to her friends, their spouses and children bound to also be in attendance.
Eve tried to tell herself that it didn't matter if they didn't like her choice of companion, it was her decision, not theirs, and hers was the only opinion that mattered on this front. It was easier to remember when there was a part of her that couldn't wait to introduce her own special someone to the men she'd gone through hell with.
But still, she couldn't help but brace herself for the inevitable teasing she was bound to endure.
Eugene Sledge was a marine after all.
She hadn't been this nervous when he'd met her parents last month, but this was different. He was meeting her brothers now.
As for the worry of being forgotten, it was something she could dismiss as foolish. The evidence to the contrary was overwhelming. Hadn't she just visited Guarnere and Babe three years ago? They could not have forgotten her in such a short amount of time. And if they were going to exclude her, they certainly wouldn't have invited her in the first place.
Sensing her nerves, her fiancé grabbed her hand, stilling her fidgeting and smiling. "Calm down, darling. It'll be fine."
Eve was half certain that he was actually trying to convince himself instead of her. She squeezed his hand firmly, glad he was with her. "They'll love you," she assured him, pushing red hair from his whiskey colored eyes.
He suddenly looked endearingly nervous again. "Are you sure?"
God, she loved this man. "Yes."
He took a deep breath, and gathered his courage with hers as he straightened his spine. He hadn't worn his uniform, going for something dressier than he'd normally wear, something suitable for going to church, as had Eve; she hoped most of the guys inside would be doing the same, but she just didn't know. It was her first reunion after all, so she wasn't sure what to expect.
But the time for delaying was over and passed. She gave Eugene another smile, glad he was with her. "Let's go," she said.
He held open the door for her and ushered her inside.
The room was crowded. Knots of men, in twos and threes lingered everywhere, the occasional woman standing out as well as the dashing children weaving between the adults' legs.
She looked over the men assembled, picking out the faces she knew from the crowd trying to swallow her nerves.
They all looked so slick in their suits and ties, laughing and joking like there was no tomorrow.
She hovered, unsure once more, almost content to just watch when a voice cried out, "Evelyn Buchanan!"
Almost instantly, Eve was swept away by a flurry of hugs and pats on the back as her Company welcomed her home.
-The End-
A Final Note: Yes, this is really the end. There will be no more updates on Thursday.
I'd like to thank you for getting this far, for reading the whole story all the way through to the end. I hope you enjoyed taking this ride with me, and that it was worth the not inconsiderable time it took you to read it. I hope it was worth your time.
This story has been received so much better than I ever dreamed was possible. It's been a year to the day since I posted the first chapter of this story. It's been quite the adventure. All my love to those of you who have supported me along the way, adding this story to various lists, taking the time to review. Know that I noticed and I appreciate and thank you for it; it means more than you know. I've cherished each bit of feedback I've received, both on this site and off it. I can't thank you folks enough. I couldn't have done it without you.
There is a tentative sequel/extended epilogue planned, to fill in the gap between the end and the reunion and explain Eve's relationship with Sledge, but it will be a while before it comes out. Please be patient with me.
If Warbonds did manage to touch you in some way, or you enjoyed yourself along the way, please leave a note on your way out?
All my love,
Kat
