They were packed in like a tin of sardines inside the back of trucks. Dallin didn't have much room to move her shoulders, let alone stretch out her legs. Sitting opposite her and looking highly uncomfortable was Shorty. She was squished between Lipton and Jackson. Toye was closer to the front by the tailgate with Buck and Guarnere. It was probably the best place to be, by the tailgate. Dallin was nearer the back. With a pale looking Shorty opposite, her.
She lost track of time. Dallin was sure two hours had passed but it might have been longer. Dallin was hopeful they wouldn't be on the road long, but it seemed the journey was going to last for a while. Most of the roads had been damaged from constant battles. So, the trucks had to take different bumpy roads, which furthered the journey.
Frowning, she looked down at her lap. Going out there, without winter clothes, little ammo and practically no supplies, was frightening. Even she was scared. But she would never admit that out loud, Dallin wouldn't want to further frighten the new guys.
When Shorty looked to be in a state of panic, Dallin leaned over, took off his helmet and shoved it under his chin. She knew that face all too well. Shorty started getting sick. Both from nerves and the bumpy motion they were all enduring. Dallin grimaced while holding the helmet up for him. She swallowed back the tightness and sickly feeling in her throat and stomach. But it was better than him puking on the floor.
But she did shudder.
Giving his shoulder a clap, Dallin asked;
"are you…finished?"
He had stopped heaving.
Raising his head, Shorty nodded.
Now, Dallin was holding a helmet full of vomit. Keeping it at arm's length, she looked over her shoulder towards Lipton and asked;
"Lip? Where does this go?"
"Pass it up". Lipton replied, "Buck'll toss it over the tailgate".
It was a very disgusting game of pass the parcel. And once the helmet was empty, they passed it back down to Shorty. He didn't look very happy putting it back on. Dallin didn't blame him. With a tiny frown, she told him;
"rinse it out with canteen water…and have gum, yes?"
Nodding, Shorty followed her instructions.
And she handed him a piece of gum.
"Thank you, Dill". Shorty replied, looking less sick.
Dallin leaned back against the truck, shoulders squished between Lipton and Jackson once again. The springy truck continued to bump along the road. She moved up and down with the motion. It didn't make her feel sick, thankfully. She was used to the movement, after enduring it for most of the night. Dallin's head rolled onto Lipton's arm. The man didn't seem to mind. She blinked, eyes feeling a little heavy. Dallin yawned and wondered if she'd end up catching a couple of hours of sleep. It would be a first for her, she could never seem to sleep on a moving vehicle.
It took her thirty minutes to relax enough to dose off, but the trucks decided to stop, just as she was about to fall asleep. Moving away from Lipton's arm, Dallin moved to the tailgate and jumped off the truck. Men stood by the road, taking a much-needed piss. Dallin yawned into her cold hands. A shiver rolled down her spine. It was freezing.
The night sky was covered with thick clouds. And soon, it started to rain. Shivering more, Dallin stuck her hands deep into her pockets. She ducked her head, chin soon tucked into her jacket. She wanted to find a fire and get warm, but no fires had been started.
Dallin had no idea where they were, but they had thirty minutes before they hit the road again. She walked around the trucks, stretching her legs and getting the blood flowing again. Men settled down for sleep. Some lay inside the trucks, while others took to the fields. Dallin saw Winters walking down the road. She met him halfway, with a tiny smile and asked;
"anything…to do, sir?"
With a smile of his own, he questioned her;
"you see what the men are doing?"
"Yes…they sleep, sir".
"Get some rest, trooper". He told her, "I'll yell if anything needs done".
Rubbing her lips together first, she asked;
"where are we?"
"Still in France". He replied quietly, "got a while yet before we reach Belgium".
Looking up at him, she mumbled;
"very cold…sir".
Winters sighed;
"we'll be fine, Dill. We got through Holland; we can manage this".
She hoped he was right.
Moving back towards the truck, Dallin climbed up and took her original space near the back. She squeezed in between Lipton and Jackson again. Jackson was fast asleep. A lot of the men were dozing. Reaching into her pocket, she brought out her tin and decided to roll herself a cigarette. Looking down at her, Lipton asked quietly;
"not 'gonna sleep, bud?"
Shaking her head, she whispered;
"I sleep later".
"Any idea where we are?"
"Captain Winters tells me…we have not left France".
Lipton let out a tiny sigh;
"it's 'gonna be a long journey".
Dallin nodded, agreeing with him;
"yes…it is far to Belgium because of damaged roads".
Dallin raised her head when Shorty started snoring.
And she soon smirked when a sleeping Wally leaned into him for warmth.
"What're those two like?" Lipton asked her, "the two new guys?"
She shrugged one shoulder and looked back down at her cigarette;
"they are fine, Lip". She replied lightly, "both from New York…big city…with big personality".
Lipton smiled a little;
"like Wild Bill then?"
Shaking her head, she mumbled;
"no one is like Bill".
The 1st Sergeant chuckled.
Dallin felt her lips twitch at the sound.
Lipton didn't laugh enough.
"You're right about that". He said, "Wild Bill…storming through Normandy and Holland".
"It would be…very dull without him".
"You got that right, bud". He agreed, "keeps me on my toes, anyway".
She smiled again.
Shaking her head, she said shyly;
"yes…the champagne".
Lipton hummed;
"boy, I gave you all hell for that one". He said, "what were you doing under the bunk?"
"Joe puts me there". She said, "I don't fight".
"He's a good man". Lipton commented, "a great Sergeant".
The soft smile remained on her face.
Dallin finished rolling her cigarette. She lit it up and whispered;
"in Toccoa…when I had dream and…and put gun to Skip".
Frowning a little, Lipton nodded;
"yeah?"
"You never…tell on me". She pointed out quietly, "I wonder why, Lip?"
Shrugging, Lipton said;
"you didn't mean it. You were scared when you woke up, right?"
Sighing, Dallin looked up at him;
"I thought…I was still inside darkroom and Skip was going to…harm me". She whispered, "very stupid…Skip is good friend".
"Didn't happen again though, right?"
She looked away from him.
And admitted quietly;
"I…turn gun to myself once".
Lipton went pale;
"what?" He whispered.
Nodding, she mumbled;
"my friends…they do not load my rifle at night".
Shaking his head, he whispered;
"I didn't know".
Dallin shrugged one shoulder;
"no one does…just the barrack".
Lipton opened his mouth, meaning to say something but a disgusted Guarnere cut him off;
"Jesus fucking Christ…Goddamn fields!"
Dallin and the 1st Sergeant looked towards him.
Guarnere was back inside the truck, trying to reach the back of his jacket.
Frowning, Lipton asked;
"what is it, Bill?"
With a sigh, Guarnere muttered;
"slept in cow shit, that's what it is…damn country".
Some light was brought back into Dallin's eyes.
Lips twitching, she asked;
"how did you…manage that, Bill?"
"Dark, ain't it?" He grumbled, "couldn't see nothing…not even the shit".
Huffing, Lipton remarked;
"you damn city boy".
…
When Dallin opened her eyes, the trucks had stopped for the last time. With an empty gut, she jumped off from the tailgate and landed in a puddle, splashing cold water up to her knees. With a shiver, Dallin stepped out of the freezing water.
The trucks had stopped two miles outside of Bastogne.
Finally, they had reached Belgium.
On the desolated road and land around them, men thought about building fires and grabbing one last piece of warmth before moving to the front. But they couldn't risk being seen. A few miles from their current position, a battle could be heard. And the eastern sky would light up in orange from flames and shells.
Currently, they were outside a village called Mande-Saint Etienne. Troops were allowed a small break before the long march to the crossroad town of Bastogne. They took those few precious minutes to smoke, take another much-needed piss or grab something to eat from their rations. Dallin smoked her last cigarette before they formed columns and moved out. It was hard to roll her cigarette, her hands were shaking too much, and the tips of her fingers were numb.
"Pretty cold, huh?" Liebgott commented to her, "never been this cold back home".
Looking at him, she asked;
"what about…march to Atlanta?"
Shaking his head, he huffed out a laugh;
"nah…this place is colder, Dill".
Nodding slowly, she whispered;
"I hope we don't freeze to death".
Liebgott sighed;
"that thought crossed my mind…it ain't just the Krauts we're 'gonna be fighting, 'gonna be fighting this damn cold too".
"It is very cold in Poland". She said quietly, "sometimes even inside house…with fire on".
Liebgott shivered;
"well, we don't got a fire to keep the chill off out here, sweetheart".
Dallin blew out the smoke she had inhaled.
Leaning against the side of the truck, she mumbled;
"I promise myself…to think of hope this time".
"Out here, huh?" Liebgott smiled small, "that's 'gonna be hard, Dill".
"Holland felt…hopeless". She said, "maybe this will be different, Joey".
His smile softened;
"I hope you're right".
Smoking the last of her cigarette, she tossed the end away. The burning tobacco died in a puddle. Tucking her tin away, she announced to Liebgott;
"I smoke the last of my tobacco".
He raised his eyebrow;
"really?"
Nodding, she mumbled;
"yes…now I will not smoke".
Liebgott smirked;
"you'd rather quit than smoke a pack of Chelsea's?"
"Yes". She confirmed quietly.
"Who was your tobacco dealer?"
"Dead". Dallin mumbled, "I had…enough to keep me going for over two years".
"So, that's it, huh?" Liebgott mumbled, "you're 'gonna quit".
Smiling small, she looked up at him;
"you almost sound…disappointed, Joey".
He smiled back at her;
"I ain't disappointed, Dill". He said, "just hope you ain't 'gonna convince me to quit".
"No…I do not control you, Joey".
Liebgott reached towards her, fingers touching the end of her hair;
"should have cut your hair back in France".
Dallin smiled small;
"I owe you beer, Joey".
"You do, huh?" He smiled, "once we get out of this frozen hell, you can buy me a beer".
"Fine". She agreed lightly, "and maybe…Italian food?"
His smile widened;
"we'll lay off the wine this time".
"Yes…I do not want to get sick". Dallin said quietly, "because…you might want to kiss me again".
Licking his bottom lip, Liebgott cleared his throat;
"well…that sure warmed me up a little".
Biting her lip, she tried to hide a smile;
"I think of…many ways to warm us up, Joey".
Huffing, Liebgott shook his head.
"Stop it, Dill".
Shrugging, she mumbled;
"I just say…what we both think sometimes, Joey".
When a tiny smile met his lips, he murmured;
"you're incredible".
Eyebrows twitching, Dallin said;
"I thought you…would insult me".
Huffing out another laugh, Liebgott shook his head;
"no, sweetheart".
"So…we find each other attractive?"
He rubbed the back of his neck;
"you ain't subtle, are you?"
"I can be subtle in Polish". Dallin said, "but not in English…it's easier to say what's on my mind. That way, you understand me better".
With a sigh, Liebgott then told her;
"yeah, you're attractive, Dill". He murmured, "I find you…attractive".
A tiny blush met her cold cheeks.
Dallin ducked her head, fighting a stupid grin.
Smiling, Liebgott added;
"I mean…why else would I try and kiss you?"
Shrugging, she mumbled to her boots;
"you were…very drunk-"
"yeah but it don't make me blind, sweetheart".
She hummed;
"okay".
Liebgott raised his eyebrow;
"okay?"
Nodding, she looked up at him;
"yes…we see how this goes, Joey".
"WE'RE MOVING OUT!" Someone yelled.
It sounded a lot like Buck.
Grabbing their gear, Dallin and Liebgott moved away from the truck and joined the column. Soon, the troopers were marching down both sides of the road, leaving the middle empty. They could still hear the distant rumblings of a battle going on. It didn't worry them too much. The Paratroopers were used to heading for danger. It's what they trained for.
So, they were a little surprised to see a bunch of fleeing American soldiers. The men were from the 106th Division, a recently arrived unit sent to the "quiet area" east of Bastogne. They shuffled along the road, their heads down. Some wore a dazed expression, while others evoked terror to the advancing troops. One of the terrified soldiers walked right over to Dallin, grabbed her arm and warned her gravely;
"they'll kill you…they'll murder you…".
"You 'gotta run!" Another added.
Frowning, Dallin looked up at Toye.
Her squad leader gently pulled the terrified man's hand off Dallin's jacket and asked him;
"got any ammo going, kid?"
"Did you not hear me?" The man cried, "you're all 'gonna fucking die-"
"yeah, right…die". Toye cut him off smoothly, "ammo?"
After Toye asked, everyone started grabbing the retreating troops ammo and supplies. They grabbed more rations, cigarettes and most importantly, more ammo. It still wasn't enough, but it was a lot better than what they previously had. The march continued, with more warnings from the terrified men. Dallin did her best to ignore the warnings. Caving into that small spec of doubt, she looked up at Toye and asked;
"are they…correct?"
Sighing, the Sergeant said;
"something spooked them, kid".
Nodding, Dallin frowned and faced the front.
With a frown of his own, Toye looked down at her.
His hand went on her shoulder;
"I ain't 'gonna let nothing bad happen to you, kid".
She sighed, shakily;
"you too, Joe".
Giving her shoulder a squeeze, Toye told her;
"it's alright, kid. We got through Holland, huh?"
"Yes…we did". She whispered, "most of us".
They thought back to Campbell for a couple of moments in silence.
Dallin looked back up at Toye, with a tiny smile;
"Kacper…he reads book about Hobbits".
Confused, Toye looked at her;
"the fuck is a Hobbit?"
"It's a…very small creature". She mumbled, "a…made-up person, like-"
"fantasy?"
Dallin nodded, eyes lightening a little;
"yes…a fantasy book, Joe. Thank you".
Toye smiled;
"no problem…well, what about this Hobbit?"
With a smile of her own, she told him;
"Tam, gdzie jest zycie, jest nadzieja".
"I don't speak Polish, kid". Toye reminded her.
"Where there is life, there is hope". Dallin said, "it was written…inside Hobbit book. Kacper liked those words the most".
"You're still hopeful?" Toye asked quietly, "suppose that's good out here".
"I am hopeful we will win war". She mumbled, "but maybe…I will not see it".
He sent her a tiny glare;
"kid, you will see the end of this fucking war". He muttered, "I fucking promise you that".