The Platoon left quarantine after three-days and moved into their new home for the next thirteen weeks. It was a two-story barrack. With half the Platoon downstairs and the other on the upper floor. There, training really started. Physically, Holly thought she'd find all of the exercise hard but thanks to Winters, she managed to keep up with the men. Despite being lazy and perhaps untidy before, Holly took a great liking into being in the army. And not only did she like it, but she wasn't terrible at it either. Winters and Trent were two others who stood out among the rest of the men. The three of them picked up close-order drills quickly. Holly found that she was good at paying attention and observing. Within training, she found that she could push herself, despite her body wanting to quit and give up. Every man in the Platoon would be exhausted but they all somehow managed to keep going.
Of course, Holly still struggled. Especially with rifle training.
They were given 1903 action-bolt Springfield rifles. Which had been used during the Great War. Once they learned the ins and outs of their weapons, Slusher took them to a practice range, where they fired their weapons for the first time. Having never handled a gun before, Holly was terrible. She missed the target completely and flinched when pulling the trigger. It was the loud noise which set her off.
Rubbing her lips together, Holly took in a deep breath.
Each time a rifle was fired, her heart would almost explode.
Holly could feel her throat tighten and her stomach twist into knots. Her hands grew sweaty and clammy and she felt sick. Winters, who was lying beside her, turned to face her;
"you okay?!" He asked, above the firing.
Holly flinched again.
Winters felt himself frown;
"Holly, what's wrong?!"
She shook her head;
"I don't feel good!"
His frown deepened;
"you're sick?!"
"Yeah!"
Holly had no idea if she was actually sick. But she certainly didn't feel well at that moment. And Winters believed she was unwell, for she looked pale and sickly looking. Seeing as they had only been out of quarantine for two weeks, Holly left the range and informed the NCO overseeing their target practice that she was unwell.
He took a step back from her;
"report to your Sargent, Private". He ordered her.
Holly left the field and headed back into camp. She still felt slightly weak but when she stopped hearing the rifles firing, Holly's other symptoms vanished. With a confused frown, Holly knocked on her Sargent's bedroom door. His small room was set-up right next to their barrack. And the older man called for her too;
"enter".
Opening the door, Holly stepped into his room.
She had never been inside his room before. It was plainly decorated. With a single bed, a closet and a desk. Slusher looked up from a document he was reading and raised a bushy eyebrow;
"you get into a fight again, Private?"
Closing the door, Holly shook her head;
"no, Sargent". She told him quietly, "I wasn't feeling well".
Slusher sighed;
"you'd better not having meningitis, Private".
Frowning, Holly shook her head again;
"I feel better now, Sargent". She told him, "I'm not sure what it was".
He snorted softly;
"I think I do". He said, with a tiny sigh, "you're not the first to experience panic whenever a rifle goes off, Private Duffy".
"I…I wasn't scared, Sargent".
"You were". Slusher said, "unfortunately, the only way you'll cure this fear, is to get over it. But seeing as we're not going to war just yet, let's try another method first".
He opened up a drawer from his desk and brought out a pair of earplugs;
"here – put these on, it'll muffle the sound".
Eyes softening, Holly took the earplugs;
"thank you, Sargent".
A rare smile lifted Slusher's face;
"I read an article once about a man who was slightly terrified from the sound of gunfire. His Sargent handed him a pair of earplugs and his issue went away within a week. He turned out to be a damn fine soldier. In fact, he's one of the reason's I wanted to join the army".
Holly placed the earplugs into her jacket pocket and said;
"must have been some guy, Sargent".
"He was". Slusher mused, "you might know him".
Holly shook her head;
"I don't think so, Sargent". She said quietly, "unless it's Mr Stevenson or-"
"your father". Slusher cut her off, "Thomas Duffy".
Holly's face dropped.
She then told him quietly;
"I never knew him".
Slusher sighed;
"yeah…I heard what happened to him, Private. Do you know what he did for his country?"
She nodded;
"yeah…Trent told me. He was a Private and he led a Platoon of men across no-mans-land".
Slusher raised an eyebrow;
"a Private?" He questioned, "Thomas Duffy wasn't just a Private…he was a medic. He carried no weapon across no-man's-land, while he led a Platoon of men. That's why your father is a war hero, Private Duffy".
Holly couldn't catch her next breath.
And during her silence, Slusher pulled something else out of his desk drawer. It was an old page from a newspaper. Frontpage news. He placed it down on his desk and pointed to the photo. Holly looked down at the picture. It was King George and someone standing in front of him. There, the lone soldier was awarded the Victoria Cross by the King himself.
Slusher pointed to the soldier;
"that's your dad". He told her quietly, "Thomas Duffy".
It was the first time she had ever seen a picture of her dad. And though it was only the side of his face, she could make out that they had the same length of nose. He was tall, slender and wore a small smile, while staring directly into the Kings eyes. Holly could tell it would have been a very proud moment for him. Holly's fingers gently traced the outline of her father's face. Biting her bottom lip, she could feel tears well up in her eyes.
"He described it as the proudest moment of his life". Slusher then explained, "but soon changed his mind, when his daughter came into the world".
Her bottom lip quivered, while a tear rolled down her cheek.
The Sargent eyed her up and down;
"you can keep the picture". He told her, "perhaps it will give you motivation, to keep doing well. And to stay out of trouble, Private Duffy".
A tiny smile reached her lips then.
Wiping the lone tear away, Holly nodded and took the picture;
"thank you, Sargent". She mumbled.
Slusher lit a cigarette;
"that man, Private Winters…he's your buddy?"
Nodding again, Holly looked at him;
"he is, Sargent. We were roommates before this".
Slusher nodded;
"you both make a good team…keep up the good work, Private Duffy".
With the picture of her dad in her pocket, Holly left Sargent Slusher's room.
By the time she made it to the field, the lesson was over. And she spotted Winters, Trent and the rest of the men marching back to camp. Holly joined in and marched alongside Winters. He looked at her, noticing she wasn't as pale anymore;
"feeling better?"
"Yeah, loads". She whispered, "Slusher's alright, you know".
He smiled;
"he is?"
"Yeah…in fact, he's pretty great, Dick".
Chuckling quietly, Winters wrapped his arm around her shoulder;
"it's chow time – you know what we're having?"
Holly shook her head;
"nope. What did good old John prepare today?"
"Spaghetti". He said, with a knowing smile, "I'm warning you…if you tell me his spaghetti is better than mine, then we'll need to sort out our friendship".
Holly laughed softly;
"Dick…come on…don't get jealous over a meal".
"I'd be extremely jealous".
Rolling her eyes, Holly shook her head;
"look, I'm just glad to have something familiar, you know?"
"Yeah, I know". He said, "I miss our chicken dinners".
"Me too". Holly said, "I miss eating ham with my fingers".
Winters smirked;
"I miss telling you countless of times to pick up your plates and cups".
She grinned and looked at him;
"I don't miss that, Dick".
...
The day ended quickly after that.
After lights out, men often stayed up for a few extra hours.
Slusher did a bed-check at 2300 hours, giving the men some time to play cards, gamble, write letters or shoot the shit before Slusher barged in and ordered everyone to get to sleep. Holly, Winters and Trent would often stay up and talk about their day, or things they needed to work on. Holly decided to share the news about her father with her two friends. She spread the picture out on her bed;
"that's him – that's dad". She told them proudly, "he was a medic. Not just a Private".
Winters grinned;
"amazing, Holly…this is incredible".
Holly nodded in agreement;
"yeah, it's really cool". She said, "I didn't know he was a medic".
Trent sighed;
"I forgot to mention that part".
Holly smiled at him;
"don't worry, mate…it was nice hearing that from Slusher, actually".
"You've got the same nose as him". Winters pointed out.
Holly grinned;
"that's the first thing I noticed too, Dick".
"Who's that?" A curious Ed Wolfe asked the three of them.
He leaned over Winters's shoulder, getting a look at the picture;
"is that guy getting the Victoria Cross?"
"That's my dad". Holly told him, "he was a war hero".
Wolfe grinned;
"hey, that's pretty neat – what'd he do?"
Trent looked at him;
"oh, you know…just led a whole Platoon of men across no-man's-land, weaponless and brought them back again all in one piece".
"No shit". Wolfe whispered, "he really did that?"
"He did". Trent confirmed, "and Holly right there, that's his daughter. And I bet, she's 'gonna be just like her old man".
Holly raised an eyebrow;
"Trent, my dad was a medic. I'm just training to be a soldier".
"Time yet, Holly". He reminded her, "once your basics up, you could do anything".
Winters fingers gently rubbed against her hand.
Smiling a little, she looked at him.
He stared back at her; eyes soft;
"follow me?"
Holly nodded;
"yeah, alright".
The pair of them left the barrack, while Trent and Wolfe continued to talk about other Great War heroes. Stepping out under the starry sky, Holly immediately looked up, where she could spot the pale moon, staring back at her. It reminded her of nights when they left Winters parents house and made the walk back home. A warmth pooled inside her stomach. It reminded her of home.
Her eyes met Winters, who then said to her softly;
"you ever miss…when it was just us?"
Holly nodded;
"more than you know".
He smiled small;
"it's only been two weeks since we left home, Holly. But it feels longer".
"A lot's changed, Dick". She mumbled softly, "I mean…two weeks ago, I had fucking hair".
Winters chuckled softly;
"you suit short hair". He told her, "it's nice seeing your face".
Holly huffed quietly and shook her head;
"stop flirting, Dick".
Rubbing the back of his neck, Winters looked at Holly;
"do you remember the first time we saw snow together?"
Looking back at him, she nodded;
"yeah…that was the Christmas you got me Santa".
Winters smiled;
"it was, huh?" He said fondly.
Holly smiled;
"you're brilliant, Dick…I'm still glad I met you".
His smile softened.
And Holly could see his eyes water a little.
Frowning, she took a step closer to him and placed her hand on the side of his face.
"I never realised just how lonely I was, until I met you, Dick". Holly whispered.
Sighing softly, Winters pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes;
"I can't wait until this year is up". He murmured, "I just…I want our life back".
Holly placed her hand on the back of his neck;
"don't worry, Dick". She mumbled softly, "we'll get our life back again".
His arms went around her then, bringing Holly closer.
She ended up resting the side of her face into his chest.
Her arms went around his waist.
"Dick?"
"Yeah?"
Holly sighed;
"all those girls you've dated. I didn't like any of them".
A smile reached his lips and Winters ended up chuckling;
"yeah…I wasn't a fan either, Holly".
…
Midweek in September, South Carolina experienced a heatwave.
The sun glared down at camp that day, giving the men burns and dry mouths. Running in the heat was exhausting but Slusher wanted his men to experience all kinds of weather. So, they did their usual run in the morning, went over the obstacle course and after lunch, they practised close-order drills.
The heat only got worse in the afternoon. Everyone was sweating by that point. They breathed heavily through the heat, each order left them feeling tired and sore. But Slusher didn't seem to mind the heat. However, Holly assumed the man was struggling but put on a brave face as any Sargent would do for his Platoon.
To cool themselves down, Slusher allowed his men to take off their helmets and shirts. Holly, of course, couldn't take off her shirt. And she decided to keep her helmet on, knowing the sun would burn her scalp because of her light hair. Though sweltering in her clothes, Holly was the most protected from the sun and some men kept their shirts and helmets off for the rest of the day. Which in the end, turned out to be a terrible idea.
Holly had been sound asleep, but a noise woke her up.
It was Trent, who slept next to Winters. While her roommate slept soundly, Trent was tossing and turning. Holly let out a tiny sigh and sat up, so she could take a look at him. Through the darkness, she could make out his figure constantly shifting. Trent kept on kicking his blanket off and then recovering himself. As if he didn't know if he needed the extra warmth that night or not. Holly wondered if she was a light sleep or if everyone else slept heavily. Either way, Holly was awake, and she couldn't sleep from all the noise.
"Trent". She whispered loudly, careful not to wake the men up. "Trent – what is it?"
"I'm boiling, Holly". He complained to her quietly, "it's too damn hot".
Holly frowned a little;
"well…take the blanket off then".
Trent sighed;
"I don't feel good, Holly…. like, at all".
Her frown deepened.
Holly got off her bed and moved over to Trent.
When she reached her friend, her hand went on his bare shoulder;
"Jesus!" She exclaimed, in a hushed voice, "you're burning hot, Trent".
He groaned;
"I know…feel like I'm in a fire, Holly".
Biting her lower lip, Holly's fingers went to the side of Trent' neck, where she could feel his how fast his heart was beating;
"you know…I think you have sunstroke, mate". She mumbled, "should probably get you cooled down, alright?"
"Good plan". Trent whispered.
Grabbing his arm, Holly helped her friend stand.
As soon as Trent was on his feet, he swayed, threatening to fall over. Holly's arm went around his waist, holding him up. Her eyes then wandered towards Winters, who was slowly starting to get up.
"Dick". She whispered, "can you help me with Trent?"
One of his eyes opened;
"so hot in here". Winters whispered, "is this hell?"
Holly sighed;
"Christ – not you too". She muttered, "Dick, get up and follow us".
"Where we going?" Winters asked, voice slightly slurred.
"Latrines". She said, "the showers – cool water". Holly told him, "follow me, come on. But get up slowly, alright?"
With a tiny sigh, Winters slowly got onto his feet.
Much like Trent, he swayed but managed to keep his balance.
Holly watched his every move;
"good to move?"
Winters looked at her;
"yeah". He mumbled, "where we going?"
"I told you, Dick". Holly reminded him softly, "the latrines, yeah?"
"Yeah – yeah, right…yeah, you said".
She pushed down her worry for the time being and led her two friends into the latrines. Turning on the light, she practically dragged Trent into one of the showers. Sitting him down and leaning him against the cool wall, Holly took off his shirt and turned on the shower. Trent gasped a little but soon moaned, appreciating the cool water.
"Dick, get in the other one – and take off your shirt". She instructed him, "sit tight…I'll bring you both water".
Just as Holly was about to leave the latrine, another man pushed by her and started to vomit into the toilet. For a moment, she stilled with fear and covered her ears. But the man continued to retch and vomit violently into the toilet. Holly took in a few calming breaths and grabbed her fear before tossing it to the back of her mind. Hands leaving her ears, she quickly jogged towards the vomiting man and touched his bareback. He too was burning hot.
"Fuck". She whispered.
Sighing, she gave the man's back a gentle rub;
"once you finish". Holly said, "head into the shower and wash yourself with cool water".
He spat into the toilet, before asking;
"what is this?" He croaked.
"It's likely sunstroke". She said, "you're not the only one. Dick and Trent, have it too".
Holly hoped it would end at three but once that man was in a shower, cooling his body off, three more men stumbled into the latrines, either vomiting and complaining about cramps and being too hot. Holly instructed them to cool themselves off, before leaving for water and ice. Outside of the barrack, she filled up bottles of water, many bottles. Which of course, woke Slusher up from his light slumber.
"Private Duffy!" He hissed, "what the hell kind of trouble are you causing now?!"
Holly didn't even flinch.
Instead, she handed her Sargent a few water bottles;
"Sargent, some of the men are suffering from heatstroke". She told him, "they need to cool off and they need water".
Slusher looked at the bottles in his arms and then back at Holly;
"okay, Private. Tell me what to do".
Back inside the barrack, more men started to wake up from sunstroke symptoms. For the men who were vomiting and couldn't keep water down, Holly suggested transport to the Station hospital. Slusher agreed and made the call, while Holly took-chare of almost twenty-three men.
"If you are cool and satisfied, go back to bed and drink your water". She instructed the men, "if you still feel like vomiting, sit tight. We're calling in for transport".
The latrines were packed, and Holly wanted to empty them.
So, the men who were getting better, left the latrines and got back into bed with a full canteen of water. Holly stayed with the men who still needed cooling off or were busy throwing-up in the stalls. She was on her feet constantly, either placing ice packs on men's necks or armpits or rubbing their backs while they vomited.
Holly was among the chaos, but she felt moderately calm while dealing with the sick men from her Platoon. She knew what she was doing, and she was confident. Better yet, the men listened to her and trusted her every word.
Ten men were taken to the Station hospital that evening.
When the last man was placed in the back of a truck, Slusher turned to her;
"the barrack could have been looking really empty, if it wasn't for you, Private". He said to her, with a quick smile, "good job. See you in two hours".
Frowning, Holly looked down at her watch.
It was four in the morning.
She sighed;
"fucking hell".
Slusher snorted;
"good night, Private". He then added, "or should I say, good morning".