Here you go- chapter eight! AudreyK asked me about Eleanor calling Speirs "Sir" even though they're the same rank - to which I replied, out loud, "hm. valid point." I honestly hadn't realized I was doing it, which is a testament to the intimidating presence Ronald Speirs has. Also, the way Eleanor's position in the army works is that she is technically a Lieutenant, but she's really a Lieutenant in name only. With women's rights being where they were in WWII, it only seemed fitting that, even if she was allowed to keep the title she received in the WAAC, it would not hold the same weight in the regular army. So I guess the answer is that she doesn't technically have to call him sir, but I'm still considering whether it would be in Eleanor's character to do so. I'm open to thoughts from readers on the subject! I want to stay true to Eleanor's personality in any way I can!
I also decided to make this chapter a little longer, per AudreyK's request, in honor of her and all of my other most faithful reviewers!
Anyway, with no further ado, here's the next installment!
Almost immediately after the division was moving again, they were attacked. As much as he hated it, Frank Perconte was quick to gloat that the assault had proved his point - Easy Company was always at the front of an advance and always the first to get shot at. Everyone managed to take cover and crawl into the nearest hedgerow, where they were then instructed to dig foxholes for the night. Eleanor went around and bandaged up a couple of men who had been grazed by bullets in the assault, leaving her foxhole buddy for the night, Guarnere, to dig the hole.
After ensuring that everyone was taken care of, she then sought out Roe's foxhole so that she could compare supplies with him and see if he had anything to supplement her own scarce collection. Night had fallen and the men were on noise and light discipline, giving the woods a quiet and eerie quality. Eleanor was trying to relax, but the silence was unnerving and she kept expecting a mortar round or machine gun fire to take them by surprise any minute. It was this tension that caused Eleanor to nearly jump out of her skin when a shout broke through the darkness.
"Medic!" Someone was calling from a foxhole on the far edge of Easy territory. Roe and Eleanor exchanged a quick glance before shoving their supplies back into their bags and scrambling out of the hole towards the frantic calling. When they finally navigated their way to the chaos, they say Floyd Talbert leaned up against a tree in a Kraut poncho with a couple of the men attempting to attend to him. A private was also standing in his foxhole, sputtering and clearly beside himself with panic.
"What happened?" Eleanor barked as Roe hit his knees in front of Talbert and started feeling and looking for the wound. She kneeled on Tab's other side, shoo-ing the others out of the way and opening her medical kit, ready to pull out whatever was needed.
"He...he looked like a Kraut!" The nervous private in the foxhole insisted.
"Bayonette." Roe added quietly, lifting up the poncho so that Eleanor could get a good look at the wound.
"How deep?" She murmured, pulling out plenty of gauze to pack it with.
"Not very." Roe replied, prodding at the wound. "Seems like it missed everything important."
Talbert hissed and whimpered as Roe continued to put pressure on the wound and Eleanor ran a comforting hand down the side of his face.
"You hear that, Floyd? You're going to be just fine. Look at me Floyd." She cooed gently. "We're going to get you all fixed up." Talbert nodded, letting her eyes and the touch of her hand to keep him grounded.
"I got the wound packed up. Should hold for now." Roe announced a few minutes later. "I say we truck him out of here and to an aid hospital. Someone should really take a look at it before we stitch it up. What do you think?" He asked, looking to her for confirmation. Eleanor nodded.
"Sounds good. Better safe than sorry." She agreed. "Okay, Floyd, we're gonna get you to the hospital, okay? You get a break from this shit." She told him jokingly. Eleanor never cursed in front of the men and it seemed to do the trick of lightning the tension for now. Minutes later, Talbert was being lifted onto the back of a truck and Roe gestured for Eleanor to climb up after him.
"No, you go." She insisted. "You're more familiar with the wound. I'll keep an eye on things here." She told him. Roe chose not to argue and climbed up next to Talbert, taking a seat. The one thing Eleanor loved the most about Eugene Roe was that he seemed to be the only man in Easy who took her 100% seriously - who wasn't afraid to give her responsibility.
"Okay, Floyd, I'll see you when you get back." She told the young man, leaning forward and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek.
"Ah, now I'm feeling better already." He joked, causing her to laugh as the truck pulled away.
Eleanor crossed her arms over her chest as she trod softly through the dark woods. The night air had become chilly and now that the adrenaline of Talbert's accident had worn off, she was beginning to feel it again.
She froze in place as a figure appeared before her in the darkness. It was too dark to see the man's face, but she was able to make out the American uniform, causing her to relax slightly.
"What are you doing out here?" the man asked in a demanding and familiar voice.
"Lieutenant Speirs." She breathed in relief. It was strange that she would be so at ease with him; no one else was. But, like many of the other men, she had someone that she trusted simply because she had gone through D-Day with them. Her someone just happened to be Speirs.
"I was just heading back to my foxhole." She told him, shifting uncomfortably in the silence that met her explanation. She had been crossing an open expanse between platoons and nobody was around to break the ice – as she was sure one of her Easy Company comrades would have tried to do.
"You shouldn't be wandering around." He spoke after a moment, his voice keeping the same cold timbre as always.
"I'm not wandering." She explained calmly, gesturing behind her in the direction she'd come from. "There was a call for a medic. Tab got stuck by one of our own."
Speirs seemed to contemplate this, nodding. "How is he?"
"He'll be alright. Roe and the men are getting him onto a jeep right now so he can get to a hospital." She replied, uncomfortable with the way his eyes were boring into her, contemplative and calculating, as she spoke.
"Let's get you back to your foxhole." He suggested, gesturing for her to follow him. She opened her mouth to insist that she could make it on her own but he'd already turned his back on her and headed toward her platoon. She hurried after him.
"What were you doing up?" She whispered conversationally as she caught up to him. They needed to keep their voices low in consideration of the sleeping soldiers they were approaching and, well, the lurking enemy, of course.
"Making sure everyone else is doing what they're supposed to be." He replied simply. Eleanor wondered if it was really his job to be patrolling in Easy Company territory when he had his own company to look after, but chose not to ask; she didn't fear him the way the other men did, but Ronald Speirs was still an objectively intimidating man.
"My foxhole's right up here." She announced, gesturing to the hole where Guarnere was already fast asleep. He was sitting with his arms crossed and his chin tucked into his chest, a scowl peeking out from under the rim of his helmet. A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth at the sight and she turned to face Speirs, stopping. She cleared her throat as he watched her, unsure how to dismiss him.
"Thanks for...you know, walking me back." She told him quietly.
"They have you sharing foxholes with the men?" He asked after a moment, glancing at Guarnere's sleeping form with a stony expression. Eleanor wasn't sure what she'd expected him to say, but that wasn't it.
"Yes, well...It'd be more dangerous not to." She explained with a shrug. In fact, she'd been touched when the resident "tough guy," Wild Bill, had insisted that he be the one to make sure that nobody "gets any ideas." She hadn't been as close to him as she was to Luz or Malarkey and hadn't known that he cared so much.
"I suppose." Speirs replied. "How's your head?" He continued to question, his eyes flitting up toward her forehead.
"Oh," Eleanor stammered, feeling her neck and face flush. She reached up self-consciously to touch the cut that Roe had, unfortunately, had to stitch up. It would probably leave a scar. "It's fine. All stitched up now." She reported with a close-lipped smile.
Speirs gave a small nod and continued to search her eyes with his own. Eleanor was learning that Ronald Speirs was a man of few words, who didn't feel the need to fill every silence with talk. Normally, Eleanor would appreciate this quality - the Easy Company boys were full of quips and mindless chatter - but she was uncomfortable with the silence now, with all of the Easy men lying in foxholes nearby. She didn't want any of them to think that she was having a moment with the Lieutenant - because she wasn't.
Ronald Speirs truthfully wasn't sure why he had the stifling urge to drag this interaction out. In the back of his mind was the nagging thought that once it ended, he had no way of knowing how long it would be until the next one. It was no wonder that women had been barred from combat all these years. On D-Day, he'd been prepared to unload her on someone else the first chance he got, but by the time he did, it was too late. Some sort of irreparable damage had been done in him and now he was constantly trying to keep track of her; get his sights on her.
"Well...goodnight, Lieutenant." Eleanor said, pulling him out of his thoughts. She was stepping down into her foxhole and he resisted the urge to reach out and offer a steadying hand.
"Get some rest, Price." He replied with a curt nod.
The next morning, Easy Company was quick to duck further into their foxholes and ready their rifles when an ambush started. Eleanor was already crawling back and forth behind the ridge, responding to cries for a medic.
Only minutes into the altercation, cries for help seemed to be everywhere, but thanks to the concealment of the ditch and surrounding brush, most injuries were no more than flesh wounds. Because of this, Eleanor was able to quickly bounce between soldiers, bandaging them and instructing them to start crawling toward help, if needed.
"Argh, Medic!" A man to her right cried and Eleanor hurried over to him. The young man, whose name had slipped Eleanor's mind in the heat of battle, had a bag with a disassembled bazooka lying on the ground next to him and was clutching his bloody hand. Harry Welsh was crouching near him, his reassuring words drowned out by the overwhelming sound of bullets and mortars.
"Let me see." Eleanor shouted over the noise, trying to pry his injured hand away. Once she managed to, blood began gushing out and she quickly blanketed it with some gauze. Two of his fingers had been shot off.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" She asked, and he shook his head frantically, staring at his hand in shock. He'd only just discovered that his fingers were gone.
"We've got to get these tanks before they close in." Harry was insisting, watching German tanks appearing over the hill, quickly approaching. "Can he hold a bazooka?"
His fingers wouldn't have prevented him from holding the bazooka, but it was clear that he was quickly descending into a state of shock, as he was now unresponsive to Harry's frustrated cries.
"Snap out of it, Private! That's an order! Dammit!" Welsh shouted, frantically looking around for someone else. Everything was still in chaos.
"Price! Go get Blithe!" Welsh ordered her and Eleanor's gaze whipped over her shoulder; Blithe was the closest person and he looked even more traumatized than the wounded Private in front of her. Blithe wasn't going to run into an open field with a bazooka. Not allowing herself to think about it too long, Eleanor ripped the medic badge off of her arm. She tuned out Harry's shouts as she pressed the gauze tighter around the Private's hand. "Keep pressure on this. I'll be right back!" She ordered him, before picking up the strap of the bag and slinging the heavy object onto her back.
"Eleanor, no! I'll find someone el-" Harry exclaimed, but Eleanor pulled out of his reach.
"Too late!" She replied, referring to the quickly closing-in enemy. Her adrenaline was pumping as she ran out of the ditch into the open battlefield, counting on Harry to follow her. She dropped to her knees as she saw a tank appear at the crest of the hill before her. She whipped the pieces of the bazooka out of the duffle, scrambling to remember how they fit together. Thankfully her hands were operating on automatic and she managed to assemble it in just a few seconds.
"Are you crazy?" Harry gasped behind her as he helped her hoist the heavy weapon onto her shoulder. It occurred to Eleanor for a moment that she was still unharmed after being exposed for so long, but she pushed the thought away, fearing that it would jinx her. She felt Harry loading the gun behind her and swallowed the lump in her throat as the tank grew closer and closer.
"Okay, go! Fire!" Harry shouted over the sound of artillery, but Eleanor shook her head, gritting her teeth as she focused her aim. If she let it venture just a little bit closer, she could hit it dead center. The person driving the tank must have spotted them because the gun turned eerily towards them, like the eye of a provoked cyclops.
"Nora, fire! Fire now!" Harry yelled. Eleanor waited just a few more moments before finally pulling the trigger. She felt the power of the weapon shudder through her as the shell went soaring into her target. A shell that had been fired from the tank a moment before it was hit came soaring in their direction and she felt Harry throw her to the ground as it flew past, obliterating a tree. The pair quickly pulled back up to their knees and she heard Harry ask "one more?" She nodded, feeling him once again load the bazooka. By the time he'd loaded it and Eleanor had shifted to take aim, the tank was, like the last, dangerously close to them. Eleanor fired the moment she had the sights lined up and the tank went up in flames. Unlike the first one, this tank did not stop and continued barreling quickly toward them.
"Run, Nora! Fall back, fall back, fall back!" Welsh cried hurriedly, helping her carry the bazooka as they scurried away from the burning tank. Bullets whizzed right past Eleanor's head and she dropped the bazooka as they reached the ditch, diving back into safety.
"Are you shot?" Welsh questioned breathlessly, looking her over.
"No." She gasped in disbelief. "Are you?" He shook his head and then fell back with a groan, clearly still stressed by what could've happened. He picked up his rifle and snatched up her medic badge, tossing it to her. He nodded toward the Private, who was still sitting there quietly, watching the darkening blood stain on his gauze. Eleanor swallowed and nodded, turning to see to the boy as Harry went back to firing off shots.
Eleanor could practically feel the anger rolling off Dick Winters as she approached him in the abandoned city of Carentan. They'd been instructed to come back here and wait for the transportation back to England. Eleanor couldn't wait to get a shower.
She'd considered ducking out of range when Winters spotted her, but knew that this conversation would need to happen eventually and she'd managed to avoid it up to this point. It wasn't that she couldn't take a good reprimand - it was just that each of the Easy Company men seemed to think it was their responsibility to give her an earful about her actions and she didn't know if she could take it one more time, especially from the always-sweet Dick Winters. He stepped away from the group of lieutenants he was speaking with (Welsh, Nixon, and Speirs) to meet her, but, to her chagrin, didn't step nearly far enough to be out of hearing distance.
"Can we skip the lecture if I say I'm sorry and promise never to do it again?" she asked him with a lopsided smile.
"Nora." He sighed, his tone, as per usual, serious as the grave. He looked at her through his lashes: the somber, disappointed look she'd been hoping to avoid.
"What was I supposed to do, Dick? McGrath was wounded and Harry needed a hand." He insisted.
"Don't drag me into it." Harry called out from over Dick's shoulder, alerting her to the fact that the other men were indeed listening in. Her eyes flickered over to glare momentarily at Welsh and caught Speirs' eyes in the process. His face, as always, was a mask of disinterest. Nixon, true to his nature, was smirking.
"You can't just pull off your badge, Price." Dick lectured, pulling Eleanor's attention back to him. "You're not a combatant. In fact, you're here on the one condition that you're not a combatant."
"Eleanor swallowed the lump forming in her throat and nodded. She had no doubt that she'd made the right choice - the only choice - but that didn't change the fact that disappointing someone like Winters was hard for her.
"We were outgunned." She replied quietly as a way of further explaining herself. Dick sighed, eyeing her for a moment before replying.
"You did the right thing, Nora." He reassured her. "I just wish someone else would've done it. The men can't lose you. And they can't focus on the fight when you're putting yourself in the line of fire right in front of them." He explained gently but firmly. Eleanor nodded again, although she wasn't completely sure that she understood. Truth be told, she was getting tired of people telling her how she was affecting the men's focus. And truth be told, she would pull her medic badge off again if another such situation presented itself.
"I'm sorry I scared people." She told him genuinely.
"You scared me." He replied bluntly. Eleanor's lips quirked back into a smile.
"I'm sorry I scared you." She corrected. "What's the punishment for medics who try to be heroes, again?" She then asked jokingly. Dick let out a breathy laugh, which was surprisingly expressive for him.
"Nothing from me. But Sink's gonna want to have words with you." He warned her.
"Great. I look forward to it." She replied with a wry smile. "I should get back to medical." She insisted, shifting to address the other three men. "Gentlemen."
"Don't pull any gutsy stuff like that again or I might fall in love with you, Price." Nixon joked, earning a disapproving glance from Winters. Knowing that it was all in jest, Eleanor winked.
"No promises!" She called out, backing away, causing Nixon's grin to widen.
"Come get one of us when you're ready to tackle the showers." Welsh then called out and Eleanor sent back a thumbs up a she walked away.
Eleanor exhaled deeply, using the back of her wrist to wipe a bead of sweat off of her forehead. She'd once again lost track of time working with the wounded in the medical tent. Some men down on Roe's end of the line had sustained pretty serious injuries during that last ambush.
"Nora Price." A stern voice called out from the direction of the tent entrance, causing her to jump slightly. She whirled around to see Lewis Nixon standing there with a chastising look.
"Shhh!" She scolded quietly, putting a finger to her lips and then jerking it back down, realizing she was still wearing bloody gloves. She ripped them off, stomping over to where Nixon stood. The medical tent was quiet for a change, as all the men had been temporarily taken care of and were either resting or staring at the tent silently, awaiting transport away from this place.
"You were supposed to come see one of us about getting a shower. It's past midnight." He reminded her quietly.
"I'm sorry; there was a lot to be done here." She replied truthfully, shrugging a shoulder.
"Well it's time to take care of yourself. Come on." He insisted, placing a hand on the small of her back and urging her toward the door.
"I should probably check on Roberts before I -" She began, resisting his push.
"Now." Nixon silenced her. "That's an order, Lieutenant." He added, placing a hand on each of her shoulders and marching her out of medical.
"Okay, okay. I'm going." She insisted, causing him to release her and instead walk alongside her. They walked in the direction of the newly-erected shower tents in thoughtful silence that Eleanor soon broke.
"So...back to England." She began wistfully.
"What's the matter? Need a break already?" Nix teased.
"Hell yeah!" She replied with fervor and Nix's eyebrows shot skyward.
"Is that any way for a lady to speak, Miss Price?" He chastised jokingly.
"In a warzone? Yes." She retorted. "And that's Lieutenant Price, to you." Her smile fell a bit in surprise and she slowed to a stop as she spotted Lieutenant Speirs ahead, approaching them. Nix stopped as well, nodding at his fellow officer.
"Speirs." He acknowledged.
"Nixon." Speirs returned before shifting his gaze to Eleanor. "Isn't it a bit late to be wandering around? Light's out was hours ago." He wasn't any higher-ranking than them and didn't have the power to order them around, but he seemed to be drawing attention to the possible impropriety of the situation. Eleanor found this puzzling and, to be honest, a bit off-putting. And why did he assume that every time she was walking somewhere, she was just 'wandering around?'
"For someone in Dog company, I see you an awful lot." She retorted and Nixon attempted to hide the smile that erupted at her fiery spirit. The only indication Speirs gave of having heard her reply was a slight arching of an eyebrow.
"Nora just got out of medical. She needs a shower and has to have a look out." Nixon explained briefly.
"Of course." Speirs agreed, seemingly genuine, before stepping out of their way. "Carry on."
"Goodnight, Lieutenant." Eleanor told him before continuing with Nixon. After a few moments, Nixon glanced over his shoulder to made sure Speirs was out of earshot.
"You should be careful around him." He told her.
"What do you mean?" Eleanor asked. She had no reason to be suspicious of the man.
"You've heard the rumors about him, right?" He asked incredulously. Eleanor scoffed.
"You men are worse than a bunch of little old ladies at a bridge game." She criticized.
"So you don't care that he killed those soldiers?" Nix asked in mild disbelief.
"No. I don't believe that he did." She said simply.
"Alright. Look, all I'm saying is that you don't know him very well." He explained.
"I know him better than you do." She retorted. "And I trust him. With my life. Just like the rest of you. You're all good men."
Nixon just shook his head, a small smile on his face.
"You're too trusting. Not everyone here can be a good man. Otherwise you wouldn't need a lookout to go to the showers." He argued as they arrived at the tents and stopped walking.
"Maybe I don't" She replied, earning a skeptical look from Nixon. He was right - even though she wasn't too worried about being attacked, she liked having a lookout for the sake of being able to relax, knowing that no man was going to walk in on her naked. "But I mean...better safe than sorry." She added sheepishly, causing him to smirk.
"Right. I'll see if any are empty." She crossed her arms over her torso and looked around as she waited. He soon returned and gestured to the second tent.
"One advantage to your insane work ethic - it's so late that we don't have to wait for a shower." Lewis told her. "This one's empty. I'll be out here waiting. Take your time."
Eleanor smiled at him. "Thanks, Lew."
Pretty much the moment Easy Company arrived back in England, Eleanor was summoned to Colonel Sink's Aldbourne office. She expected to get a tongue lashing, but she was not prepared for the look Colonel Sink was giving her when she entered the office. Keeping her head held high, she approached his desk and stood at attention.
"Look at me, Price." He ordered. Eleanor complied. "I'm gonna give you exactly one minute to explain yourself before I tell you what I've been thinking for the past few days." He told her gruffly. Eleanor swallowed before responding.
"We started getting hit harder and the tanks were closing in. It seemed like no matter how many bullets we were firing, they just kept coming. Lieutenant Welsh wanted McGrath to help him fire the bazooka, but he got wounded. It was a good strategy, Colonel. I knew it was the best way to turn the battle around. And there was no one else around. It had to be done and I did it." She finished, surprised by the steadiness and confidence of her own voice.
Colonel Sink regarded her in silence for a few moments.
"And what about the boys screaming medic?" He asked, heated. Eleanor averted her eyes. "Did you expect a soldier to pick up your medic badge and do your job? Because that is your job, if I'm not mistaken.
"Yes sir."
"Everyone has their duties and yours is to protect and heal. A real medic's only concern would be the health of his soldiers."
"That was my concern, sir." She interrupted inadvertently. "I just chose more...preventative methods." She then added sheepishly, realizing that she'd interrupted him.
"I should be sending you home." He told her. "War has rules, Lieutenant. According to the Geneva Convention, the minute you take that badge off, you're fair game. It could even be construed as a war crime if you wear that badge around until it's convenient and then whip it off to become a combatant. Hell, if General MacArthur knew that I let you stay, he'd be seeing red for days. This wasn't the agreement, Price." He reminded her sternly.
"I understand, sir."
Sink sighed, suddenly looking much older. "Lucky for you, there are others I blame more for this incident."
"Sir?" She replied, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"Dog company retreated against orders." He told Eleanor, causing her jaw to drop slightly. Dick had alluded to the fact that something had gone amiss in the battle strategy, but she hadn't known this. She wanted to insist that her actions were her responsibility alone, but she didn't think it'd make any difference - if they'd retreated from the battle without permission, they were going to be in big trouble no matter what. An image of Ronald Speirs popped into her head uninvited and she tried to push it out. Surely he hadn't run? She couldn't imagine it.
"How will they be punished?" She asked and Sink gave her a look that told her she was out of line.
"If I were you, I'd be more worried about your own punishment. Mess duty until we leave Aldbourne again. Dawson can get you a schedule on your way out." He said, effectively dismissing her.
"Of course. Thank you, sir." She replied graciously, heading for the door.
"Oh, and Lieutenant?" He called, stopping her in her tracks. "If I hear of you pulling that badge off of your arm in battle again, you'll be home buying war bonds at the five-and-dime store. You understand?"
"Yes sir."
Eleanor sighed as she closed the office door behind her. It's true, shirking your duty as a medic is looked down upon...but if a man had done it...if Eugene Roe had done it, he would've been lauded as a hero for going above and beyond his duty.
After retrieving her mess duty schedule from Private Dawson, she sauntered out of the building, surprised to find a small crowd gathered there by the door. Nixon, Welsh, Winters, Guarnere, Randleman, Liebgott, Malarkey, Muck, Luz, and Lipton were all staring at her expectantly.
"Well?" Muck asked. "You out or what?" Malarkey elbowed him but a sweet smile graced Eleanor's face at his question.
"No, Skip. I'm not out." She replied and the men cheered at the news, pulling her into the group for embraces. Guarnere pulled the paper out of her hands and made a sound of distaste upon seeing her punishment.
"Winters put in for medals for the both of us." Welsh told her, and she gave an astonished look to Winters, who looked almost sheepish.
"I don't think mine will make it to the top. Sounds like Sink doesn't want General MacArthur to know." She explained, causing the men to fall silent.
"Well, we know, Bird." Guarnere assured her after a moment, throwing an arm around her shoulder. "We'll spread the word - Eleanor Price ain't afraid-a nothin'!" He exclaimed, causing a melodic laugh to rise out of her. The group began to head for the mess hall as Luz cracked more jokes.