Waking up on the 1st of November, Dallin was told the news about Heyliger.

He had been shot on Halloween night. Heyliger lost a lot of blood, he was in a great deal of pain, but medics were sure he would survive. With Moose at the hospital, his war was over. Easy had lost another great leader. For the next few days, Welsh took command of the Company. They had one officer turn up, hoping to replace Moose but he only lasted one day until the brass got rid of him.

So, along came Dike.

First Lieutenant Norman Dike was a transfer from Regimental HQ. He was a Yale graduate, a highly educated man. He came from a well-off family in New York, an attorney's son. Dike was well-spoken, he was polite. He sounded like he had good potential. And Dallin had some faith in the man because Winters had interviewed him before sending him to Easy.

Dike was tall, slim and good-looking. He had a military bearing. But he was an inexperienced officer, who was sent to Easy for exposure on the front line. They didn't like the thought of Dike using them as a sort of "test" or "practice". But Easy were stuck with the inexperienced officer for the time being. Dike seemed like the type of man who worked hard to get where he wanted in life. He wanted to aim high in the army. And by commanding Easy, Dike felt hopeful to reach his full potential.

"I feel like we're being used". Jackson admitted to Dallin quietly.

Shaking her head, she looked up at her friend;

"it's okay, Gene…Dike seems to know what he is doing".

"You think?" He muttered, "guys got no damn front line experience, Dill".

"Well…if he does not bury his head in sand…then we will be fine".

"Christ, I hope you're right".

Dallin sighed.

She dropped the apple, not being able to take another bite. She was getting sick of eating apples now. Her stomach was hollow and craved other food groups. Dallin was growing weak. They all were. And they were all getting sick from not having a roof over their heads. It was miserable on the front. November was a cold month and the suffering deepened.

With weak arms, Dallin pushed herself up onto her feet.

Her trousers started to fall down.

With a tiny blush, she quickly grabbed the fabric, stopping them by her knees. Jackson didn't feel embarrassed for her, he felt concerned. Looking at her, the young man frowned and whispered;

"God, Dill…you're wasting away".

"We all are". She mumbled, "I just need…rope to keep my trousers up".

Nodding, Jackson slowly got onto his feet.

And he swayed once standing.

Frowning, Dallin grabbed his arm, trying to steady him;

"are you okay?"

He sighed quietly;

"yeah". Jackson grumbled, "just got dizzy".

"Joe and Babe will return with more food". Dallin reminded him gently, "yes? And you won't feel…dizzy for long".

Nodding, Jackson slowly took a step away from Dallin's hold;

"I'm alright". He said, "I'll get you rope, buddy".

When Jackson stumbled to the back of the barn, Dallin was about to sit back down, knowing her body needed another short rest. But just as she was thinking about taking a seat, Shindell started to yell;

"fuck you, Neil!"

"Get off of me!" Neil screamed back.

Hearing the anger in their voices, Dallin quickly walked over to them. Shindell had a hold of Neil's collar, fist clenched and ready to punch. Resting her hand on Shindell's shoulder, he snapped;

"hey!"

Shindell pushed Dallin away.

She fell to the ground and collided into a few empty metal buckets. Dallin didn't spend a lot of time on the ground before she was on her feet again. This time, she roughly grabbed Shindell's shoulder and yanked him off Neil.

"Let me at him!" Shindell screamed, "let me at him!"

Dallin stood between them;

"no…you are not going anywhere, Johnnie". She told him calmly.

Shindell and Neil were quiet. Dallin had never heard them yell before. It was surprising to see them both angry, hands itching to beat each other up. But she couldn't exactly blame them either. Tensions were high, the men were irritable because they were so hungry and tired.

Looking between the pair of them, she warned them softly;

"if Joe catches you both fighting…he will be very angry".

"He fucking started it!" Shindell snapped.

Neil glared at him;

"you did! You came over here looking for a fight!"

"I came here looking for help, you asshole!"

Dallin looked at Shindell;

"help?" She asked, "with…with what?"

His shoulders dropped;

"I need food, Dill!" Shindell stressed, "and Neil has apples left".

Rubbing her lips together, she told him;

"you have one of mine, yes? Neil needs his apples, Johnnie".

Shindell eyed her up and down.

And soon blushed a little.

Clearing his throat, he looked to the ground and mumbled;

"pants dropped, Dill".

Sighing, she reached down and hoisted her trousers back up;

"just…take my apple, yes?" Dallin muttered, "no more fighting".

Jackson was soon standing behind her.

He eyed the two replacements and gave Shindell a glare;

"you ever touch her again…I'll punch you into next fucking month".

Dallin was led back to her bed. With the rope Jackson had found, she made herself a belt to stop her trousers from falling. That was only one problem taken care of, the squad were running on empty. They needed something better to eat other than apples. It was getting desperate now and Dallin wanted to ask for help.

"We should ask-"

"no". Jackson cut her off quietly, "they need food, Dill…we can't take what they've got".

"Bill would…have everyone share". She mumbled, "but…we don't share now. Why?"

Shaking his head, Jackson lay down on the straw;

"cause we're all suffering now, Dill. Everyone from Easy are sharing the same problem".

Neil dropped onto his bed and croaked;

"how do they expect us to fight?"

Dallin turned around and looked at him.

Her eyes softened;

"it will be okay…Neil". She assured him, "we will not let you all…waste away".

"Thanks, Dill". Neil sounded close to tears.

"Get some rest". She told him softly, "you are not on duty today".

With Neil tucking himself into bed, Dallin slowly rose to her feet.

And she smiled small because her trousers remained up.

Jackson huffed out a tiny laugh and then asked;

"where you going?"

"I will be back…very soon".

Dallin left the barn and made the half-hour walk over to Easy Company CP. It was a farmhouse, stuck between two large barns. Animals continued to live inside the barns. A few cows, some goats and one large horse. Dallin wasn't sure who was looking after the animals, but they seemed happy and taken care of.

Before she could reach the house, Lipton stopped her.

The 1st Sergeant cast a worried glance her way;

"you don't look good". He observed.

Looking up at him, Dallin's eyebrows twitched;

"Lieutenant Dike…is he in?"

"Yeah, he is". Lipton replied quietly, "but…he doesn't want to be disturbed right now, bud".

Frowning, her head tilted to the side;

"this is…important".

"Well, I'll help". He said, "what's wrong?"

Biting down on her bottom lip first, Dallin whispered;

"we need…food, Lip".

His frown deepened;

"I know". Lipton mumbled, "I wish there was more I could do about that-"

"he can do something". Dallin said, nodding towards the farmhouse.

"How?" He asked her gently.

"Because…we are his soldiers, Lip". She whispered, "and to fight…we must be strong".

"Regiment know". Lipton said quietly, "they know we've run out of rations".

Nodding, Dallin asked;

"so…they do something?"

He swallowed before replying;

"there isn't much they can do at the moment".

When her knees wobbled, Dallin placed her hand on the side of the barn.

"Why?" She asked.

Shaking his head, Lipton blinked;

"I…I'm not sure, Dill".

Letting out a breath, Dallin's body began to shake.

Lipton took a step close to her;

"are you okay?"

Her eyes blurred a little. She was dizzy and extremely lightheaded.

Dallin's lips tingled, as did the tips of her fingers. Looking at the Sergeant, she could barely see him through her foggy mind and blurred vision. Dallin blinked, trying to get rid of the feeling. But it didn't work. Her body felt heavy, legs too weak to hold her.

Lipton placed a hand on her shoulder;

"hey". He called out gently, "what's going on…talk to me, Dill".

She cleared her throat;

"nothing…I am fine".

…

Conditions didn't improve as November deepened.

Still stuck in a roofless barn, Toye's squad were left feeling miserable most of the time. The weather only got colder. It rained a lot in November, much like it did in October. Only, the rain felt like ice. There wasn't much they could do, to keep the wet chill off them. When Neil started to get sick, Dallin was eager to get him off the line. Because if Neil got off the line, he could rest in an aid station. He'd get a bed, pillows and a warm meal.

Neil had a terrible cough, that sounded wet and sore.

"I will…get you off the line, Neil". She promised him.

He looked so grateful.

Dallin saw tears reach the corner of his eyes. And once a medic was called for, they were quick to evacuate Neil from the front and into the rear. No one else got sick. Though their stomachs shrunk, and they were tired, the men managed to keep fighting.

Rolling onto his side, Heffron looked at Toye and asked;

"why we still here?"

The Sergeant sighed;

"no idea, Heffron".

It was night, Neil had not long left the line. Bellino was on watch. Shindell and Hughes were both fast asleep. They passed out at eleven when they could no longer keep their heavy eyes open. Under the cover of darkness, Dallin decided to break the rules and go looting for food. If she was caught, she risked being in serious trouble. But she didn't care, it was worth the risk.

Slinging her rifle over her shoulder, she gave Toye a nod;

"I will…be back with food".

Toye wasn't happy with her plan.

But even he was starting to crack;

"don't get fucking caught, kid".

"I won't". She mumbled, "even if I do…I stop caring".

Jackson had offered to go with her, but Dallin didn't want to risk them both getting caught. She left the barn just after eleven and travelled further up the line, aiming for the village. Dallin knew the positions of each Platoon, but she had let one particular CP slip from her mind. Most of the houses were destroyed and had already been looted but one remained standing. Opening the door, she stepped inside and was greeted by unfamiliar warmth.

Closing the door behind her, she followed the hallway to the back and entered the kitchen. Dallin opened the cabinets, which she soon found were empty. So, she tried the cellar. The Dutch kept jars of dry food down in the basements and liquor. But they weren't thirsty. Turning on her flashlight, she looked around the shelves and soon found jars of sweet cherries, biscuits and nuts. Opening her musette bag, Dallin shoved the jars inside.

She could have cried with happiness.

Closing her bag, she turned around.

And dropped the flashlight.

"Corporal!"

Cursing under her breath, Dallin reached down and picked up her flashlight.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Peacock demanded, "you're stealing, aren't you?!"

Shaking her head, Dallin mumbled;

"no, sir".

He walked over to her;

"open your bag".

Licking her bottom lip, Dallin looked up at him;

"no".

"I order you, Corporal!" Peacock yelled, "open your bag!"

But she stood her ground.

Her friends were starving.

They needed the food.

Dallin shook her head again.

Peacock grabbed her shoulder, nails digging into her skin and bone.

She flinched at the harsh hold.

"Fine". He hissed, "you're going to Battalion…they'll sort you out!"

Her eyes widened slightly, in a desperate attempt to stop him;

"no…please". She begged, "my friends…please they're-"

"shut the hell up!" Peacock snapped.

The Lieutenant dragged her back up the stairs.

"I'm sick of you, Corporal!" He said, "you and your stinking attitude! You talk back to officers, you disobey orders…and now you're stealing from an officer!"

Dallin was breathing heavily, hands gripping onto his arm, which was wrapped around her chest. He was dragging her out of the house and onto the street. Dallin's boots scraped against the ground, kicking up stone and mud. A few eyes looked their way, but no one could help her.

She had tried to put up a small fight, but Dallin soon sagged.

She was too weak to fight and get away.

It was then she realised her error in looting – she had stolen from Peacock's billet.

But even if it wasn't his billet, Peacock would have still turned her in if he caught her. Dallin didn't regret looting. She would do anything for her friends. Peacock didn't seem to understand that. And Dallin didn't think he cared that most of the men were starving.

They reached the farmhouse in Elst.

Peacock continued to drag her, worried she'd escape. But Dallin was too weak to run anywhere. She was exhausted and felt sick to her stomach. Once inside the house, he opened the door into a sitting room, dragging Dallin in after him. Winters, Welsh and Nixon all looked towards the pair curiously. And soon, dread pooled in the pits of their stomachs.

Peacock roughly let her go;

"sir, she was stealing". He told the Captain firmly, "from my billet, Captain".

Winters felt his face drop. His eyes looked towards Dallin. She was barely holding herself together. Her body swayed back and forth, threatening to fall at any point. Blinking, he looked away from the girl and met Peacock.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. That will be all".

Peacock saluted the Captain.

A tiny smug smile on his lips;

"sir".

Dallin gripped onto the back of an armchair and stopped herself from crumbling to the ground. Breathing heavily, her tired eyes looked up, to meet the Captain's stare. Licking her cracked lips, she whispered;

"just…make sure my friends…get the food, please".

With a frown, Winters nodded;

"okay". He assured her quietly, "they will".

Welsh walked over to her, a tiny smile on his lips;

"can I take a look?"

Dallin nodded.

Opening her bag, Welsh crouched down a little and brought out the jars of food.

Frowning, he asked;

"these were all from Peacock's billet?"

"Yes, sir".

Welsh huffed;

"Jesus…the man sure loves to hoard".

"What do you mean?" Nixon asked his friend quietly.

Shaking his head, Welsh muttered;

"he could have shared this food around, Lew".

Winters looked back over at Dallin.

"Lieutenant Dike…where is he?"

She shrugged one shoulder.

Winters sighed;

"I haven't been informed about the current food situation within Easy. Why is that?"

"Beats me". Nixon murmured.

Dallin looked a little confused;

"Lip…he tells me…Regiment is sorting food out".

"Yeah, they are". Welsh replied, "but it's not marked as urgent".

Dallin's face scrunched up in anger;

"what?" She hissed, "my friends…we starve! We are weak and – and starving!"

The three officers in the room looked at her.

Dallin's whole body started to shake.

Taking in a deep and shallow breath, she hissed;

"we only live off…apples and…and other fruits. Of course, we loot. What else should we do, sir?"

Winters could feel the anger and venom dripping from her voice.

But then, he heard hurt and desperation.

"I thought we were…friends?" Dallin whispered, eyes shining towards Winters. "You all…let us starve…".

Shaking his head, Nixon told her;

"no, it's not up to us, Dill. It's not our fault. If you're 'gonna blame anyone, blame the brass who runs the damn Division. Don't point fingers at your Captain".

"He's right, Corporal". Welsh added, "just be careful what you're saying…you're already in a heap of trouble".

Her eyes never left Winters.

Nodding slowly, Dallin whispered;

"fine…send me to stockade…cut my pay". She said, "I don't care…but my friends deserve to eat. So, I want them to have this food. That I stole…because…they deserve to eat".

She had always been honest.

Winters could count on her, to tell the truth all the time. And her words cut into him, leaving his heart bruised. He wasn't supposed to befriend the enlisted, he wasn't like Buck. But over the years, Winters had developed a sort of friendship with Dallin and a few other men from Easy. He didn't have his favourites but he did let them off the hook from time to time. He had let Guarnere off the hook more than once. He didn't get on at Liebgott for snapping at him during the battle on the 5th of October. Because though his men were soldiers, they were human. They had emotions, motives and desires. And Winters could understand Dallin's desire to keep her friends alive.

Dallin was trying to keep it together.

Winters could see the battle in her eyes.

And she lost that battle a little when pleading;

"please…".

He swallowed back the tightness in his throat.

Winters bit down on his bottom lip for a moment, before making his way towards her.

Welsh moved to the side, letting his friend past.

And once reaching Dallin, the Captain crouched in front of her.

"If no one's listening, then you come to me". He told her quietly, "don't get yourself hurt, or in trouble".

Dallin felt her bottom lip quiver;

"I just…want them to eat". Her voice broke.

And a tear rolled down her cheek.

Winters nodded with a deep frown;

"you're a loyal friend, trooper".

"So…they have this food?"

"Yeah, I already promised you that". Winters reminded her, "they can have the food. So long as they share it out with the rest of the Company".

Dallin nodded;

"yes, sir".

Looking down, Dallin let out a shaky breath.

Her lip continued to tremble, while she tried to hold back tears from pure exhaustion. And she was scared. Frightened of what would happen to her now. She knew the risks but now that the risks were staring her in the face, Dallin was afraid of being locked away again. She didn't want to be away from her friends. She wanted to bring them food, so she could see them smile again.

Her hand covered her eyes.

More tears rolled down her cheeks.

And she let out a breathless sob.

"Sorry…". Dallin whimpered.

It felt like someone had stuck a dagger in Winters's heart. Watching her break down, reminded him just how deeply the men were suffering. So, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling the girl into his chest. With one hand on her back, the other rested on the back of her neck.

"Here's what's 'gonna happen". He mumbled, "I'm 'gonna give you a ride back to your position, you're 'gonna hand out the food. And I'll cut your pay for one month".

Her breathing hitched with another soft sob.

Nixon, though happy with what Winters said, still raised the question;

"Peacock?"

"You let me handle him". Winters said quietly, "he had enough food to feed the damn Battalion for three days. I'll deal with it".

Nixon smiled;

"good plan".

Dallin wouldn't be sentenced to the stockade.

With a wash of relief, she took in a deep breath and composed herself. Pulling back from Winters's chest, she quickly scrubbed the tears off her face. Dallin soon looked at her Captain. He was still crouched in front of her, with his hand on the back of her neck. Giving him a tiny nod, she couldn't put into words just how grateful they were to have a man like Winters in charge.

"Thank you". Dallin whispered. "Thank you…very much, sir".

As he promised, Winters drove Dallin back to the front. When she reached their roofless barn, the men were happy to see that she had brought food. Sharing what she had found around the whole Company, the men enjoyed a few cherries, some nuts and a couple of biscuits. It wasn't a lot, but the sugar and protein were a nice change from apples.

Dallin was just happy to see her friends smile again.

That's what kept her going.