They were told they would be heading for a rest but that plan soon changed.
The men were bound for a place called Alsace, to help defend against what was rumoured to be another German attack. Lugging their weapons and equipment into the backs of trucks, the men soon followed after their equipment. It was much like their ride into Bastogne, only, the trucks were near enough empty. Nobody had anything positive to say. Toye wasn't there to sing, Muck wasn't around to break the tension. It was a painfully quiet journey. But the worst part was the rumours. Men were claiming it was going to be like Bastogne all over again. And that fear gripped Rory tightly from the inside.
Taking off her helmet, she ran a hand threw her sweaty and matted hair. Rory wasn't sure if it was the nerves, the bumpy road or something else but she wasn't feeling too great. She felt sick like she did back in Mourmelon when they all got sick from eating poorly cooked turkey. But she also felt achy and heavy, like she had a cold or flu. Rory blamed the cold weather for making her sick. For not only had it finally taken its toll on her, but Sargent Lipton was suffering from pneumonia. He was riding in a jeep with Captain Speirs and the other Platoon leaders. Inside their truck, Rory was leaning against Heffron, trying not to vomit. Her eyes were closed, the men thought she had fallen asleep. Someone had wrapped a blanket around her. She guessed it was Jackson, who was sitting opposite her.
Six hours into their thirty-six- hour drive, Rory mumbled something into Heffron's side. He looked down at her and asked;
"what was that?"
"Stop the truck…".
Heffron sighed;
"we can't stop the damn truck, Roo. We're going somewhere. The trucks are slow. If you've 'gotta go, just hop off and hop back on again".
Jackson snorted;
"yeah…just don't be like Popeye. Remember to take off your gloves first, huh? Saves the issue of trying to unbutton your pants wearing thick gloves".
Rory sighed into Heffron's side;
"I'll never get back on, Babe".
"I'll get you back up". Heffron assured her, "just go, it'll be fine".
Rory pulled herself off from Heffron and started to take off her thick gloves. She handed them to Heffron, who put them to the side. Rory took off the blanket wrapped around her and got onto shaky legs. She wobbled and almost lost her balance. And she might have fallen over if Heffron hadn't caught her arm. Frowning, he asked;
"you good, Roo?"
"Fine". She mumbled.
Heffron let go of her arm so Rory could walk towards the tailgate.
The only reason the trucks were so slow, was due to the snow reducing their speed to a crawl. In some ways, that worked in their favour. They could easily hop off and back on the truck if they had to relieve themselves. But Rory wasn't having much luck. Almost reaching the tailgate, she ended up falling onto her knees. Her body felt too heavy to walk. Her skin felt sensitive under her clothes, while she rattled with chills. Liebgott, who was sitting by the tailgate, crouched beside her.
"Hey, you okay, kid?" He asked her, "you have a little fall?"
Liebgott placed his hand on her shoulder.
When Rory swallowed, it felt like she was swallowing needles. Her throat hurt and it felt swollen. She felt miserable. The sickest she had felt for a while. Her head lowered until her chin was touching her chest. Rory let out a shaky breath, while her body trembled. Using his teeth, Liebgott took off one of his gloves and pressed his hand against her forehead. Frowning, he asked her;
"you feeling sick?"
Rory gave him a tiny nod in response.
"Alright, that's okay". Liebgott said, "we'll – uh – we'll get you sorted, huh? Don't worry about a thing, kid. You're 'gonna be fine".
Malarkey moved over to them;
"what's going in?"
"Kids sick".
"How sick?"
Liebgott shook his head;
"I ain't sure, Malark. She's got a fever though".
Frowning, Malarkey said;
"might be what Lips got".
"She ain't coughing". Liebgott pointed out.
Malarkey looked at her;
"how do you feel, Roo? You feel sick?"
Again, she nodded.
"Anything else, Roo?" Malarkey gently pressed, "you got a headache or sore throat?"
Rory once again nodded.
It didn't take long for Jackson to reach the small scene;
"what's going on?" He asked, sounding panicked. "How come Roo's on the ground?"
Malarkey told him kindly;
"sit tight, kid. Roo's just feeling under the weather".
Jackson pulled a face;
"she wouldn't pull a fuss for nothing". He said, "she's 'gotta see doc, Malarkey".
"One thing at a time, Jackson". Malarkey told him, "let's get her off the truck first, huh?"
Grabbing onto the tailgate, Jackson jumped over and landed on the snow-covered road;
"well, send her down". He told them, "I'll help her".
A tiny smirk met Liegbott's lips;
"alright, kid. We'll send her down to you".
"Hang on". Malarkey said, "I'll put that blanket around her".
With the blanket wrapped around her, Liebgott lowered her down to Jackson who soon had her in her arms, bridal style. Jackson moved away from the road, keeping them safe from the slow-paced trucks. Rory had her eyes open. And she was staring up at him;
"I'm 'gonna be sick".
Nodding, Jackson carefully set her down on her feet.
There, he carefully tried to move Rory towards the end of the road, but she ended up losing whatever was inside her stomach, all over Jackson's jacket sleeve. His eyes widened a little in shock;
"that's okay". He said, "no biggie…just some puke, huh?"
Rory wasn't sure if he was reassuring her or himself.
Still, she croaked out a tiny;
"sorry".
Jackson shook his head;
"don't be sorry, you can't help it…I should have been quicker. I'm sorry".
Coughing, Rory moved away from him and vomited again.
Jackson's hand went on her back.
"Christ, Roo". He mumbled, "you're really sick, huh?"
Rory took in a shaky breath and nodded;
"yup".
"You 'gonna puke again?"
"Probably".
"May as well do it somewhere comfortable, right? Let's get back on the truck".
It made the men laugh when Jackson started to wipe the puke off his sleeve once they were back on the truck. Rory felt too weak to laugh. Instead, she lay down on the bench inside the truck, head resting on Liebgott's lap and legs stretched out towards Heffron's thigh. They wrapped her up in blankets and prayed that fever would start going down on its own. But Malarkey still planned to get Rory checked out by a medic when they reached the town.
However, after only getting off that truck for five or so minutes, they were soon ordered to get back on. The men were bound for a town called Haguenau, located in France. The trucks taking them to the town didn't have any cover to shelter them from the rain and snow, which seemed to fall heavily that day. It didn't do any favours for Rory's current ill state. She was still burning up, despite feeling cold, her stomach wasn't settled, and her body and throat continued to ache. There was no denying Rory had a case of the flu. She could barely lift her head.
It was going to be a horrible journey into Haguenau.
…
The journey was rough for Rory. She spent most of it leaning over the end of the truck, dry heaving or bringing up the water she had just consumed. All the while, Jackson would rub her back and stop her from falling off the truck. And whenever she finished getting sick, Rory would lean back against Jackson and close her eyes, feeling too exhausted to keep them open.
As the trucks neared the town, a very chipper voice greeted them;
"hey, guys!"
Rory recognized that happy voice.
Pulling away from Jackson's side, she looked towards the voice.
A tiny smile met her lips;
"it's Webster". She croaked.
"Some Lieutenant told me to report to 2nd Platoon". Webster explained.
Though, no one seemed to share his excitement.
Webster's eyes landed on Jackson, who was now sitting by the end of the truck.
"Your names Jackson, right?"
"That's right". Jackson replied.
"Who's leading the Platoon?"
Jackson's eyes followed their Platoon leader;
"Sargent Malarkey is".
"What, no officers?"
"I guess you didn't hear". Liebgott said, cutting into the conversation smoothly.
Webster looked at him;
"no, what's that?"
"They're making Malarkey a Lieutenant. He's on the fast track now".
"Really? That's great".
"Yeah, ain't it".
Webster nodded, not totally believing Liebgott;
"yeah…Jackson, help me up, will you?" Webster tossed his bag on the back of the truck.
Jackson reached down and grabbed his arm, helping the man up.
Leaning forwards a little, Webster sent Rory a smile;
"hey, Rory". He greeted, "you don't look so good".
"She ain't well". Jackson replied, sounding defensive. His arm around Rory tightened.
"Oh, that's a shame". Webster frowned.
Eyeing him up and down, Jackson asked;
"you come from the hospital?"
Webster nodded;
"yeah".
With a tiny smirk, Liebgott looked away from him and commented;
"must've liked that hospital. Cause – uh – we left Holland four months ago".
"Well, I wasn't there the whole time". Webster replied with a smile, "there was rehabilitation, then the replacement depot-"
"well, I'm sure you tried to bust out". Liebgott cut him off, "and help us in Bastogne, Web".
"I don't know how I would have done that". Webster told him reasonably.
"That's funny". Said Liebgott.
Rory didn't think it was very funny.
"Cause Popeye found a way". He said, "so did, Alley, right? Back in Holland?"
Beside Liebgott, Heffron nodded.
Liebgott continued;
"and Guarnere and-"
"yeah, where is Guarnere?" Webster asked, "he still your Platoon Sargent?"
The trucks stopped.
Jackson sighed;
"no. He got hit".
"LET'S GO!" A voice yelled from the front.
Webster frowned a little;
"yeah?"
Jackson took Rory's arm and helped her up.
Carefully, the pair of them got down from the truck.
Entering the battered down, Malarkey got his guys spread out across the street. Rory leaned against one of the buildings and eventually slid down until she was fully sitting on the cold and wet ground. A shell blasted out from across the river and slammed into one of the buildings. Hardly anyone reacted. All expect Webster, who dove for cover.
"What's the matter, Webster? Nervous in the service?" Malarkey teased lightly.
"No, I'm fine, Sarge". Webster assured him.
"Go see Captain Speirs up at CP, see if he wants you with us". He ordered him, "and take Rory with you".
Webster nodded but then asked;
"Captain Speirs? What happened to Captain Winters?"
"He runs the whole Battalion now". Malarkey informed him, "CP's right up there, Webster. Can't miss it. It's the biggest darn place here".
Nodding, Webster made his way towards Rory.
Jackson was crouched next to her, a protective arm around her shoulders.
With a tiny smile, Webster crouched in front of the girl;
"hey, Rory…you're coming with me to CP".
Looking up at him, she nodded;
"right". She croaked, "fine".
Helping her onto her feet, Webster kept his hand on her arm.
They moved away from the Platoon and crossed the road.
Rory asked him;
"what's the date?"
"Uh…5th of February". He replied, "lost track?"
She nodded.
"Easily done". Webster said lightly.
He then added;
"I don't think the fellas believe me that I'm glad to be back".
Rory sighed;
"oh, don't worry, Web". She said quietly, "they'll warm-up".
"I hope so".
…
The Easy officers were staying inside a large and run-down hotel.
The walls and some furniture were marked with bullet holes. Wallpaper peeled off from the walls easily, as if it was damp. But for the first time, while holding the line, they had a roof over their heads and some home comforts.
Lying on a couch, was Lipton. Though sick, he was still trying to do his 1st Sargent duties on that couch. Luz was rushing back and forth, sorting out boxes and supplies they had been given. The men would be informed of those supplies shortly. While walking back towards one of the rooms, Luz gave the pair of them a nod. Webster pointed to an armchair;
"you should sit down, Rory". He suggested, "get a rest, huh?"
Rory didn't sit on that chair, she melted into it.
The cushioned comfort soaked her up and pulled her body inside. Rory let out a tiny sigh and hugged her blanket around her tightly, while she snuggled down. Head resting against the armrest, she curled up her legs onto the chair and closed her eyes.
Luz soon came back through with a blanket.
"Sargent Lipton. Feeling alright?" Webster asked.
"There you go". Luz mumbled while placing a blanket over Lipton, "he's got pneumonia".
"I'm sorry to hear that". Webster said.
"What are you sorry about?" Luz asked, "he's alive, he's got a couch, a Goddamn blanket. Snug as a bug".
With a small smile, Webster said;
"yeah…uh – Sargent Malarkey said to check with the CO if I should be in 2nd Platoon".
Lipton gave him a tired nod;
"take a seat, Webster, we'll get you situated".
Webster took a seat by the piano and asked;
"how long have you been sick?"
"Long enough". Lipton muttered.
The 1st Sargent then looked over at Rory, who was sleeping;
"what's wrong with Rory?"
"Uh…I think she's sick, Sargent". Webster replied, "I'm not really sure".
With a sigh, Luz said;
"I'll get her another blanket – Lip, want a coffee?"
"Sure, Luz – Webster?"
"No thank you".
Lipton let out a wheezy sigh;
"hope Rory hasn't got what I've got".
"I haven't heard her cough, Sarge". Webster assured him.
Lipton looked over at Webster;
"how was the hospital?"
He shrugged;
"pretty bleak, if I'm honest".
"It's not the happiest place, huh?"
Webster shook his head;
"no, it isn't, Sargent". He agreed quietly.
When Luz returned a few minutes later, he handed Lipton a cup of coffee before placing another blanket on top of Rory. With a tiny frown, he leaned down and brushed his fingers across her forehead. With a sigh, Luz informed the room;
"well…that ain't a good fever".
Lipton frowned;
"must be flu. We'll get her a bed here".
"Where you should be". Luz pointed out.
The Sargent sighed;
"just trying to be useful, Luz".
Luz smoked the rest of his cigarette and stubbed it out onto the wooden floor;
"anyone seen the Captain?"
"Which one?" Lipton asked, "Winters is round back with Nixon".
"Speirs". Luz said, "don't Web need to see 'um?"
"Go find him, Luz".
"Yeah, I will". He said, "right after I get the kid to drink some water".
Crouching in front of Rory, Luz gave her shoulder a gentle shake;
"wake up, kiddo. Rise and shine, huh? You'll miss the school bus".
With a tiny groan, Rory mumbled;
"few minutes".
"Nah, come on". Luz urged gently, "you've 'gotta drink some water".
She gave her head a tiny shake;
"I just throw it back up".
"Well, might be different this time, huh? Come on, give it a shot for your old Uncle George".
Sighing softly, Rory slowly sat herself up a little.
Eyes opening, she reached down and grabbed her canteen.
Very sluggishly, she unscrewed the cap and took a few sips of water.
But soon got greedy, and began to swallow large, thirsty gulps.
"Ah – that's enough". Luz scolded softly, taking her canteen, "little bits, huh? You been puking a lot?"
Rory nodded.
She slowly snuggled back down into the armchair and closed her eyes.
Luz sighed;
"poor kid".
With Rory hydrated, Luz left to find Captain Speirs.
Speirs did eventually show up. He had been busy trying to set up the wiring for each outpost with Bain. And once he saw Lipton, he scolded the man;
"Jesus Christ…will you go in the back and sack out? There are some beds back there with fresh sheets".
Lipton sighed;
"I will, sir". He said, "just trying to make myself useful, sir".
In his hand, Speirs had a hold of a golden clock. He placed it down by the back of the piano. Webster looked at him, with a tiny smile;
"uh…Captain Speirs?"
"What?" He muttered, not looking at him.
"Sargent Malarkey sent me here…he's wondering if I should be with 2nd Platoon, sir".
With a tiny sigh, Speirs nodded;
"right, yeah". He mumbled, "2nd. Great. Go".
"Yes, sir".
"You want me to put that someplace, sir?" Vest offered, nodding towards the clock.
"No". Speirs said, "just make sure nobody puts their hands on it".
"Yes, sir. Sure thing".
Speirs gave his stubbled chin a rub.
Turning around, he soon noticed Rory, who was fast asleep on the armchair.
Pulling a face, he looked over at Lipton;
"why is Private Doe asleep? She should be with 2nd".
"She's not well, sir". Lipton replied quietly, "we'll get doc to take a look at her".
"Right". Speirs mumbled softly, "uh…she should get a bed here".
Lipton nodded;
"yes, sir. I can take her".
"No, you stay". Speirs told him, "I'll take her".
The Captain set his helmet down on the piano and walked over to her.
Giving the back of his neck a rub, he soon crouched in front of her.
With a tiny frown, Speirs placed his hand on her arm and gave it a small shake;
"Doe, wake up". He ordered but softly, "we got a bed for you in the back".
Rory opened one eye.
She could make out Speirs's face, though he looked a little blurry.
"Sir?" She croaked.
He nodded;
"yeah…bed, all for you. Fresh sheets and a pillow".
Slowly, she sat herself up. Rory felt warm under her two blankets. And it gave her a sense of comfort, knowing that they were looking out for her. Looking towards the piano, she noticed that Webster wasn't there. With a tiny frown, she asked;
"where's Web go?"
"2nd". Speirs answered.
"Oh". She mumbled, "my…my Platoon".
Frowning, the Captain pressed his hand against her forehead;
"Jesus, Private". He whispered, "that's not a good fever".
Rory coughed.
Leaning forwards, she then gagged and spewed out the water she had drank not too long ago. Speirs quickly avoided getting covered in Rory's sick. But he did sigh;
"right…let's – uh – let's get you cleaned up".
Luz came back into the room;
"I thought that might happen". He said, "sir, I'll get Rory to a bed".
Speirs nodded and got onto his feet;
"yeah…see that you do, Luz".
…
When Rory opened her eyes next, she was lying down on a soft bed, covered in blankets and sweat. The room was dark, but the door was left slightly open, allowing the light from the main room to cover some of the floor. Rubbing her eyes, she let out a tiny sigh. Rory no longer felt sick, but her throat and head still bothered her. She figured the worst was over now and her fever must have broke while she slept. Feeling a little warm now, Rory pulled the blankets off from her body and got out of bed. She was thirsty and in desperate need of a shower.
Leaving the bedroom, Rory walked into the light and spotted Speirs and Winters sitting in the main room. Speirs was on the couch Lipton had previously been lying on, meaning their 1st Sargent was probably resting in one of the beds. Winters's eyes looked towards Rory, who was standing in her dirty OD's.
With a tiny smile, he asked;
"how're you feeling, trooper?"
Rory shrugged;
"better". She barely croaked.
Winters raised his eyebrow;
"is that so? Sounds like your throat might be sore, Rory".
"It's fine". She croaked again. "I feel great".
Speirs shot her a tiny glare;
"you don't sound great, Private".
But Winters smiled at her;
"do you want something to drink, Rory? How about some water?"
Rory nodded;
"thanks, sir".
"No problem". He said, "go on back to bed, I'll be there in a minute".
Sighing quietly, she nodded.
And made her way back to bed.
When she left, Winters shook his head;
"she's not well". He stated, "has she seen doc?"
"He came in to check on her while she slept". Speirs replied, "he thinks its flu".
"Right". Winters mumbled, "her fever must have broke".
"Yeah, we covered her up in blankets".
Just then, someone walked into the hotel. A worried-looking Private, who eyed the room nervously, until his eyes landed on Winters. And when the Captain saw him, he raised his eyebrow and asked;
"what it is, Private?"
"Is Rory okay, sir?" Jackson asked him, "I – uh – is she awake?"
Arms crossing over his chest, Winters eyed him up and down;
"I sent her back to bed, Jackson".
"Oh". Jackson mumbled.
Clearing his throat, he then took off his helmet and asked;
"so, she's awake, sir?"
Winters nodded;
"yup…she should still be awake".
Before Jackson could respond, Rory padded back into the main room.
With a small smile, she looked at her friend;
"hi, Jack".
Jackson smiled back at her, looking relieved;
"you're okay". He said, "you feel better?"
"Loads". Though, her croaky voice told a different story.
Jackson huffed out a tiny laugh;
"yeah, right". He said, "you look like hell, Roo".
Rory took a step towards him;
"you got a shower?"
Jackson nodded;
"yeah…we all did". He smirked, "but you didn't, huh?"
Rory shook her head;
"not yet". She mumbled, "new OD's too?"
Jackson nodded;
"and boots". He said, "we got a winter pack".
Rory snorted;
"really?" She mumbled, "that's nice of 'um, huh? Now that we've got a roof over our heads".
Jackson chuckled;
"that's what Lieb said".
Winters cleared his throat.
Rory looked up at him.
He gave her a knowing look;
"go back to bed, Rory".
Sighing quietly, she nodded.
Looking back at Jackson again, she gave him another small smile;
"see you soon, Jack".
He smiled softly at her;
"goodnight, Roo".
"Goodnight". She whispered.
Rory turned on one of the oil lamps inside the darkroom and got back into bed. She pulled two blankets over her and sat up, resting against her pillows. Moments later, Winters walked in with a glass of freshwater and a couple of white pills for her sore throat and head. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Winters handed her the glass of water and the pills;
"we'll try something to eat tomorrow". He said, "have another day in bed".
Nodding, Rory took a sip of water.
She then looked down at the pills and said;
"I swallow these, sir?"
Winters nodded;
"that's right. But swallow them with a drink of water, trooper".
Rory did as she was told and pulled a face while swallowing the pills down.
Winters looked a little amused;
"I take it you've never done that before?"
Rory shook her head;
"no". She mumbled.
She set the glass of water down on the bedside table.
"Lie back down". Winters told her, "try and get some sleep".
Rory's head fell back against the soft pillows. And she smiled a little, while Winters tucked the blanket into the bed. She couldn't remember her parents ever doing that for her. Rory wasn't even sure if her parents ever tucked her in at night. Or gave her a glass of water when she was sick. But Winters did. His large hand gently pressed against her forehead. He smiled;
"fevers gone down". He commented lightly, "you'll be back to normal soon. But you've 'gotta rest tomorrow, okay?"
Rory nodded.
Giving her another smile, Winters turned off the oil lamp and got up;
"night, trooper".
"Night, sir". She whispered.
He left the room and was about to close the door but Rory quickly asked;
"can you leave it open a bit, sir?"
Winters nodded;
"alright, Rory. Goodnight".
"Night".
And for the first time in a while, she fell asleep with a small smile.