After coming back from Paris, weekend passes tightened. It seemed Dallin, Popeye, Shifty and McClung weren't the only ones to raise hell out of base. They started sending the troops out on five-mile runs every day to get the aggravation out of their system. No minded the extra physical exercise. And they especially didn't mind when Winters set up a football team and started holding try-outs. But it wasn't just football. They had boxing matches, baseball games, movie theatres and their very own NCO club.
When Buck and Guarnere came back from the hospital, more good times were had. Buck coached the football team and Guarnere decided to raise more hell. It happened on the night when Toye dragged her into another barrack. Guarnere and Johnny Martin were there, with three large crates filled with bottles of champagne. The fizzy alcohol was easy to drink, it tasted like apple juice. And the men drank it down like water. They drank from their canteen cups.
They finished the first crate off in no time.
And moved onto the second.
They laughed away, giddy from the champagne. The mood was relaxed. Dallin was sitting on one of the bunks, pillow hugged into her stomach. Toye was standing in the centre of the barrack, singing his all-time favourite, "I'll be seeing you". Jokes and stories of combat were shared. Dallin leaned into Guarnere and let out a content sigh;
"this is…the life".
He grinned and tossed his arm over her shoulders;
"sure is, pal".
"I drink…so much now". She told him, "and Popeye…he throws cats".
The grin remained on his face, despite the confusion;
"what?"
The happy and relaxed mood shifted.
Someone had said something and that aggravated Rader.
It turned out to be Toye.
The two Sergeants got up in each other's faces, yelling at one another.
Dallin's eyes widened a little.
Guarnere sighed and got onto his feet;
"come on, fellas…". He said, "we don't 'gotta fight, huh? We still got plenty of champagne".
But Rader walloped Toye over the head with his canteen.
Dallin stumbled onto her feet.
She charged at Rader and tackled him to the ground;
"not my Sergeant!" She cried.
Once they crashed onto the ground, all hell broke loose. They all got into it.
Even Skip.
Everyone was drunk and angry, for no reason at all. Combat had turned them into a pack of wild dogs. Guys were tossed into the bunks and walls. They beat each other over the head with canteen cups, wood from the crates. And their fists slammed into chins. Rader pushed Dallin off him, and she rolled onto her stomach.
Toye reached down, grabbed Dallin by the arm and tossed her under one of the bunks;
"you stay there, kid!" He ordered her, "you-"
But whatever he was about to say, was cut short. Because Bull had tackled him to the floor.
Dallin grimaced and decided to take Toye's advice seriously. They weren't in any serious harm. It wasn't the first time they had thrown in a few punches with each other. They were like family and family's sometimes fight. Especially brothers. Dallin didn't think they'd forgive themselves if they punched her in the face. So, to save them from that guilt, Dallin didn't fight.
From under the bunk, she watched the Sergeant's tear the barrack down.
She could see blood splatter on the ground from noses and busted lips.
But among all the yelling and noise, a new voice rose above it;
"knock it off!"
Fists froze in place.
And all heads turned towards the barrack doors.
1st Sergeant Lipton had barged into the barrack, breaking the fight up.
"You guys are supposed to be leaders!" Lipton hollered, "a bunch of Sergeant's doing all this!"
All went quiet.
Lipton's yelled had just finished bouncing off the walls when Dallin asked the room quietly;
"does it end?"
Shaking his head with disappointed, Lipton marched over to her.
Bending down, he grabbed Dallin's arm and pulled her up.
Casting a glare around the men, he ordered;
"clean this mess up, then you can sleep!"
Though they nursed a horrible hangover the next morning, the men made a huge joke out of their fight. So much so, that Dallin found herself the butt end of the joke. She was walking with Buck, informing him of things he had missed while in the hospital. Dallin didn't go into great detail about losing Campbell or Dukeman.
But she did bring up Peacock twice.
She told him about the food.
Buck frowned down at her;
"Christ, I'm sorry, champ".
Shaking her head, Dallin mumbled;
"it's fine, sir…he was very greedy".
"Damn right he was". He muttered, "you know…I never did like that guy".
"Yes…there is something-"
"NOT MY SERGEANT!" Someone cried.
Frowning, Dallin looked towards the voice.
And saw Hoobler running towards her.
Her eyes widened a little;
"what are…you doing, Hoob?"
She didn't get an answer.
Hoobler grabbed her around the waist, picked her up and ran to the edge of the camp.
He put her down, an ear-splitting grin on his face.
Dallin huffed out a laugh and nudged his side with her elbow;
"fuck off…you scare me".
…
Life felt fantastic.
But then in came the replacements. It wasn't their fault. They were new, green and ready to see action for the first time. Some of them were more eager than others. Even the men who came in after Normandy didn't like them. Because Dallin was a Corporal, she had to get to know the new guys. But to her, they were kids. None of them looked old enough to shave. Dallin was sure one or two were only eighteen.
"Hughes, Johnnie, Neil". Dallin beckoned the old replacements over.
"Yeah, Dill?" Shindell asked.
"Make sure…they are settled".
"Who are they?" Neil questioned.
Hughes smiled;
"don't matter, Neil. We'll find out for ourselves".
Dallin called one of the new guys Shorty because he was only five-foot-four. The other one was called Wallace, who she called Wally. While Wally was nineteen, Shorty was twenty-six. They were both from New York. And they both had a cocky attitude.
"What do you think of them?" Jackson asked Dallin.
The pair of them watched Hughes grin and reach for the replacements hand to shake.
Dallin shrugged;
"very…arrogant".
He smirked;
"just how we like them, Dill".
She nodded, agreeing with him.
While the G.I's got let off easy, the replacements were trained hard in hopes of fitting in with Easy. No one expected to see combat until the weather got warmer. So, they focused most of their time on football practice. A big game was planned for Christmas Day. The Champagne Bowl, someone had named it. The 506th against the Five-Oh-Deuce. It was a hot topic around camp.
Dallin didn't try-out for the team.
But a few of her friends made the team.
Checking her watch, Dallin noticed the time.
"Shit". She whispered, "I have to go".
Jackson smiled;
"see you around, buddy".
"See you soon, Gene".
With a small bit of money left over in her pocket, Dallin decided to take her chances at a game of poker with five other guys. After supper, she headed into an old barn and met them all inside. It would be her first poker game; Carl had already gone over the rules with her. She was aiming for a straight, something simple for her first game.
Cigarettes, loot and money were put on the table.
Dallin put down a few dollars at the start.
It was a serious game, which required a lot of concentration.
Dallin was with Shifty and Skip from Easy.
The other three were from different Company's.
She tried to keep a calm face throughout. Not letting on if she was doing good or bad. When someone wanted to raise, Dallin accepted the raise and put in more money. She was working on a baby straight. So far, Dallin wasn't doing too bad. In fact, she might have even felt confident.
Licking her lip, Dallin picked up another card.
Just as she placed it into her pile, Shifty yelled;
"live grenade!"
They were still twitchy from Holland and took cover.
The card table turned over, money, loot and cards flew everywhere. Dallin covered her ears, waiting for the explosion. But it didn't come. The grenade that came off the man's vest was a dud. And it ended the game early. Collecting her money from the table, Dallin left the barn with Shifty and Skip.
"That was deliberate". Shifty said, "fella probably poured out the powder from his grenade".
Skip sighed;
"that doesn't surprise me…they were probably losing".
Dallin frowned;
"why didn't they take the money?"
Shifty shrugged;
"no idea".
"We might get lucky tomorrow". Skip said lightly, "let's try again".
However, the same thing happened the next night.
Only, Dallin was working on a flush. Word got around of the little "joke" someone had pulled on the guys who came back from Holland. And it was a couple of replacements that decided to test the joke out. When the grenade rolled onto the floor, someone yelled;
"live grenade!"
And they hit the ground.
But Dallin didn't.
She was angry. All she wanted to do, was get more money because Winters had cut her pay for that month. So, she grabbed one of the replacements by the collar and raised his head. Dallin glared at him and hissed;
"you think…we are stupid?"
He shook his head;
"it was just a joke".
"Are we laughing?"
Again, he shook his head;
"no…no, you ain't laughing".
Dallin kept her voice low;
"then why…is it funny?"
He let out a nervous laugh;
"no, you're right…it ain't funny".
Letting go of his collar, she gave his cheek a gentle slap;
"good". Dallin said lightly, "let us…continue the game".
She didn't win any more money, but Dallin was happy to finish the game. Skip wanted to triple his winnings and asked to borrow fifty from Dallin.
"You'll get it back". He promised her, "you'll get one hundred back, squirt".
Trusting him, Dallin shrugged and gave him the fifty;
"okay, Uncle Skip".
Skip jogged off to find another game of poker. Left outside in the cold, Dallin stuck her hands into her pockets and looked up at Shifty. With a tiny smile, she said;
"I understand".
Frowning, he looked down at her;
"understand what?"
Dallin shrugged;
"why you fuck prostitute".
Shifty sighed;
"Dill, are we really 'gonna get into that again?"
Smiling still, she said softly;
"Shifty…Popeye and Earl are…fucking crazy".
And he huffed out a laugh;
"yeah…guess they are, huh?"
Her smile softened;
"I forgive you…a lot". She said, "I am…glad we are friends, Shifty".
Shifty smiled;
"me too, Dill".
Her arm went around his waist.
His smile widened, as he tossed his arm over her shoulders.
The pair of them walked away from the barn.
"You think Skip will triple it?" Shifty asked.
Dallin snorted;
"yes…he better". She said, "he has my fifty".
"Running short on cash?"
She sighed;
"yes…".
Shifty frowned;
"why?"
"Well…hotels are expensive, and Peacock is giant…dick".
Shifty barked out a loud laugh.
Looking up at him, Dallin grinned and laughed with him.
…
Like the men, Dallin hoped to see action in the spring.
And she hoped more than anything, they'd jump right into Poland.
Or Germany.
The guys were hoping for Germany.
Standing with the Company for "chow call", Dallin saw Dike walk towards them. He wore a grave look on his face. Confused by the look, Dallin wondered if he was about to give them hell for something. But all he said was;
"after breakfast, stand fast".
Most figured that meant cleaning the barracks again, to get ready for another inspection. It never crossed their minds that it could have been something bigger. After cleaning everything she owned, Dallin left the barrack with Toye and Guarnere. They shared out cigarettes. Dallin lit hers up and asked;
"stand fast?"
Toye shrugged;
"must be something".
"Shit, maybe". Guarnere grumbled, "well, if it something…we ain't got nothing for going back out there. No winter clothes, not enough ammo or rations…we got nothing to throw into those Kraut bastards".
Toye sighed;
"well, maybe it's nothing…brass can't be that fucking stupid".
It was the 17th of December, the 101st had been tucked up inside camp for almost three weeks. Their little break wasn't over, Dallin hoped. She was just beginning to feel that spark light up inside of her. The friends around her were smiling, laughing and at ease.
She didn't want it to end.
Finishing off her cigarette, Skip soon pulled her to the side, with a wide grin.
Dallin frowned.
He brought out a large handful of money. Flicking through the bills, he soon shoved fifty into her pocket and another three fifties after. Dallin huffed, eyes a little wide. Skip gave her shoulder a clap;
"always trust your Uncle Skip, squirt".
Getting over her shock, she smiled;
"thanks".
"Yeah, don't mention it". He said, "us Uncles, we're supposed to spoil family".
With a small nod, Dallin put her money in a safe place, while asking him;
"why don't we hear any new music from Fats Waller?"
Skip frowned a little;
"Christ, squirt…he died".
Her eyes widened;
"what?"
"Yeah…last year".
Dallin sighed and looked up at him;
"how?"
"Pneumonia". He replied, with a small grimace.
Dallin sighed;
"Jesus…".
"Speaking of". Skip mumbled, with a small shiver, "it's damn cold".
She nodded;
"we should…go back inside and be warm".
…
"LOOK SHARP! GET UP! GET GOING!"
Dallin rolled out of bed and landed on the ground. An officer had run into their barrack, ordering everyone to wake up. It was one o'clock in the morning on the 18th of December. And Dallin was sleepily pulling on her boots and jacket. She was still trying to work out why they had been woken up, it didn't even occur to her that they were about to leave camp.
She took her time in tying her laces.
Rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and yawned.
Toye gave her head a tiny nudge with his hand;
"come on, kid…'gotta be quicker than that".
Looking up at him, she mumbled;
"why…are we going?"
"Yup". He replied.
Dallin frowned.
She didn't believe him and thought it was some stupid test. But she played along. Grabbing her gear, Dallin slung her rifle over her shoulder and followed the Sergeant's outside. Only to be met by a long line of trucks, jeeps and rushing Paratroopers. Dallin's eyes widened a little. Toye wasn't playing around, it wasn't some test. They were moving to the front. Rubbing her lips together, she almost lost Toye in the crowd. But it wasn't hard to locate him again. With a racing heart, she said;
"we have nothing".
"We'll find things". Toye sounded confident, "you stay around the trucks, I'm getting the squad. And then I'll find supplies".
Nodding, Dallin stopped by one of the trucks.
She stood there alone for a few minutes, rubbing her hands together to keep them from freezing. It was disgustingly cold. Dallin's toes were already going numb. When Guarnere was about to walk past her, she grabbed his arm, pulling the Sergeant to a stop.
"Bill?"
He sighed;
"Krauts have broken through in the Ardennes. We've 'gotta hold them off".
She frowned;
"with what?"
Guarnere shrugged;
"no idea, Dill. We don't got enough supplies to fight a damn army".
Letting go of his arm, she nodded;
"Thanks".
Guarnere gave her shoulder a clap;
"we'll be fine, Dill…keep your head up, huh?"
The Platoon Sergeant left to search for more gear. Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned to her right and saw Shifty and his squad standing outside a truck. Chancing her luck, she walked over to him and asked;
"so…do you know anything?"
"Yeah, Taylor mentioned we're headed to this place called Bastogne. It's in Belgium. And we're 'gonna be sacked out in a forest…told us to find warm clothes".
Dallin huffed;
"warm clothes?" She mumbled, "what are those?"
"No idea". Shifty smirked, "we've only got our combat jackets. Our boots ain't even felt-lined".
She sighed, thinking they were doomed.