A couple of causes for concern became apparent to Nelly. It was getting light. And two, she needed a break. They had been walking non-stop through the dense forest for two hours – it was reaching 0300 hours and the early morning sky was turning grey. Nelly wasn't an overly beautiful young woman, but she certainly would look female in the light. Not wanting to blow her cover, called for drastic measures. Her German dictionary only went so far but she knew basic words and phrases.

"Dieter". Nelly called, feeling her voice low and husky.

"Ja?" For whatever reason, she allowed Dieter to lead the way. Nelly assumed he could get them out of the forest. But she was beginning to doubt that theory. Unless the forest was truly big and could take them a few more hours of hiking to get out.

"Ich muss shceisse".

Dieter stopped and turned to face Nelly. "Ja". He said, "Ich warte hier".

Nelly wasn't sure what he said but he seemed to agree. Giving the man a faint nod, Nelly walked a few feet away from Dieter and ducked behind a bush. Sitting down on the wet earth, her face formed a frown when looking down at the mud. Nelly scooped up a handful of wet and thick mud with her hands and then smeared it all over her face. If he asked, which he would, Nelly would simply lie and tell him she fell. And after caking her face in mud, Nelly sat for a few more minutes and took a drink from her canteen.

Emerging from the trees and bushes a few minutes later, Dieter laughed. "Was ist passiert?"

"Ich bin gefallen".

He only laughed harder.

Nelly had to force out a laugh with him. "Dumm". She said.

Dieter stopped laughing, smiled and shrugged. "Es passiert". His voice was kind.

Nelly nodded and smiled – she had no idea what he just said.

He gestured ahead of him. "Auf geht es".

"Ja".

Once again, Nelly followed behind the German soldier. She discovered he had lost his unit – so, they were both lost in Normandy and away from friends. At least they had that in common. The Hitler worshipping – not so much. Nelly found out Dieter loved Hitler. Meaning, that he would hate Nelly even more if he found out where she had been and what she had done. And Dieter would talk a lot – mostly about his family. But Nelly never really understood what he said about his mother or father. But his voice was always light when he mentioned them. However, the topic would often turn dark.

"Letztes Jahr habe ich Juden getotet". Dieter boosted.

Nelly didn't understand the first half of the sentence, but she knew the second half – he had killed Jews. "Wo?" Nelly asked him where.

"Krakau". He replied. "Das Ghetto...Warst du das?"

"Nein". Nelly answered.

Dieter huffed out a tiny laugh. "Es hat Spass gemacht...Wie ein Enten-Shooting".

Whatever he said, couldn't have been anything good. But Nelly nodded. "Ja". Her luck of saying the right thing was going to run out. "Was ist mit Mauthausen?"

"Ich war noch nicht". He said, "Auswitch ist, wo der Spass ist".

Nelly frowned softly. "Auswitch?"

Dieter nodded. "Ein weiteres Camp in Polen".

From what she could understand, "Auswitch" was a camp in Poland.

"Es ist sehr gross". Dieter informed her. "Grosser als Mauthausen".

And it was bigger than Mauthausen. Nelly felt a chill roll down her spine. "Warst du das?" She asked if he was there.

"Nein". Dieter replied, "Aber mein Vater arbeiter dort".

He said something about his father – Nelly guessed his father was a camp commandant there. She gave a nod and replied, "Nett".

Dieter snorted. "Ich vermute". And then he spat on the ground and hissed, "Diese verdammten Juden".

The man clearly shared the same hatred toward Jews as the Nazis. And it angered Nelly. She felt her gut bubble with rage. But Nelly masked that rage. She had to. Dieter would kill her or worse, hand her over as a POW, where they'd soon discover the tattoo on her arm. So, Nelly copied his action and spat on the ground. Dieter gave her a wide grin.

"Ich bin froh, dass wir un seining sind". He said smoothly.

She nodded.

Facing the front, Dieter continued leading the way. So far, her plan was working. Nelly just had to stick it out until they reached the end of the forest. But then he stopped and pulled a pistol out of its holder. Nelly didn't react – she kept her face blank. Dieter walked over to Nelly and set the weapon in her hand. He grinned.

"Das brauchst du".

"Danke". Nelly thanked him and placed the pistol inside her jacket pocket. When his back was to her, she could feel her shoulders sink with relief. At least it would be easier to kill him now, she thought to herself while following behind the German soldier.

The sky lightened, the sun rose, and the hours went by. Sporadic shots were heard miles away from the forest. When Nelly took a look at her wristwatch for the first time, she saw it was 0700 hours. By then, she should have been in Le Grand Chemin with the rest of Easy Company, but she wasn't – she was stuck inside a dense forest with a Hitler-loving, Nazi-wannabe. Nelly still had no clue where she was. So, she decided to ask her "friend".

"Wo sind wir?"

"Picauville".

That didn't ring any bells. "Wo ist der Feind?" She asked where the "enemy" were.

And he chuckled. "Verloren".

Lost.

But then Nelly remembered the map she had drawn out in the hangars – God, that felt like such a long time ago. It felt like she had been inside the forest for days, not hours. Once she killed him Nelly vowed to check her map right after. After a further hour of walking, they took a break and then continued ten minutes later. Nelly ate a few berries and drank some water during that tiny break. Dieter had picked some berries, deeming them safe to eat. He was eating them too – Nelly didn't see the harm. And they were sweet and juicy. The natural sugars gave her some energy to keep going – it gave her the smallest of boosts, just enough energy to get through the forest.

One mile or so ahead, Nelly spotted a clearing. Between clusters of trees, she saw light. That was her way out of the forest. She didn't need Dieter anymore. He was whistling a merry tune ahead of Nelly. And she brought that pistol out of her jacket and checked the ammo situation. She didn't have any bullets – Dieter gave her an empty pistol. She didn't know why. So, Nelly forgot about the pistol and grabbed her jump knife instead. Tucking it inside her jacket pocket, she called out to Dieter.

"Ich bin mude". And she acted as though she was years younger than her age.

Dieter's expression seemed to soften. "Wir mussen weitermachen". He sounded apologetic.

Nelly repeated softly, "Ich bin mude".

Smiling, Dieter walked toward Nelly. And he stood in front of her. "Keine Sorge".

Nelly bowed her head with a sad pout.

Dieter knelt in front of her. "Bist du in Ordnung?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

Head nodding faintly, Nelly reached into her pocket. "Yeah". She said, in her Scottish accent. And she raised her head to look Dieter in the eye. "I'm fine".

His frown held a look of confusion at first. And then shock, when Nelly pulled out the knife and stabbed him right in the throat. Dieter gasped, choked and fell flat on his back. Leaning over his dying body, Nelly pushed the knife deeper and deeper into his throat. Blood began pouring out of his mouth, he was bleeding and choking to death. Nelly let the knife sit deep inside of him for a few more seconds before yanking it out.

She spat by his head on the ground. "Fucking Nazi...".

Wiping the blood off her knife, Nelly grabbed his rifle and then left Dieter to die alone.

And headed toward the end of the forest.

By herself.

...

After walking for half a mile, Nelly stopped, sat down and brought out her map. Now she knew where she was, she could find a way to Easy Company. Nelly had marked every town, village and landmark in Normandy with different shades. Nelly was pleased to discover that she was still in Normandy. However, Picauville was ten miles away from Le Grand Chemin. Nelly was doubtful she'd meet her Company at the rally point, but she was certain to meet the friendly allies there.

Packing her notebook away, Nelly rose to her feet and continued walking. Nearing what she thought was the end of the forest, she felt hopeful. But upon walking between the trees and into the light – Nelly found herself in a small clearing, surrounded by more trees. She wasn't out of the woods, and she had killed the man who knew the way. Taking in a few, deep and calming breaths, Nelly tried not to lose it – she tried not to scream and cry. Nelly assured herself that it would be fine, that she would find a way out of the woods.

But she was beginning to get sick of her own assuring voice in her head. Nelly flicked her head with her fingers and closed her eyes – forcing herself to think. Le Grand Chemin was north. So, her option, for now, was to go north and hope to find a road or a village – or anything that wasn't the forest. Nelly turned slightly to her right, opened her eyes and left the clearing. Back between thick trees, she shoved branches angrily out of her way and stomped her boots against the wet and cold earth.

Grabbing her canteen, she unscrewed the cap and took a drink of water.

Water – that was a new concern. She'd need to ration her water now. Nelly could go without food for weeks, but she wouldn't go far without water. And so far, she hadn't come across any ponds or streams. After taking a few sips of water, she stored it by her belt and pushed that concern to the side for now. Nelly's new problem was her exhaustion. The adrenaline which kept her going was beginning to dwindle. As her legs and boots stumbled through the trees, she spotted a dead trooper hanging from the branches.

An idea crossed Nelly's mind.

Placing the knife between her teeth, Nelly climbed up the tree to reach him. She didn't have to climb too high, if she fell, the fall wouldn't break any bones. Face to face with the dead trooper, Nelly cut away his ropes, which caused the body to drop to the ground. Wrapping the ropes around her waist, she climbed down the tree and decided to inspect the corpse for supplies. Nelly used his water to refill her canteen. And she took his rations. It never fazed her, she was used to taking from the dead – for survival, that is. And, using his grenades, Nelly designed a trap fifty yards away. She designed it as a sort of trip wire. If someone were to trip over the rope, they would set off a grenade. It would alert Nelly from her sleep, and she'd get up and move. Because all Nelly needed now was sleep.

Forty minutes later and her trap was completed. Nelly kicked the body out of her area and settled down with her blanket and saltine crackers. Reaching into her musette bag, Nelly brought out the radio and tried for Skip again.

"Gandalf". She said into the receiver.

There was no reply.

"I'm in the woods...". Nelly didn't care if he couldn't hear her, she just needed to complain. "I'm alone...I'm not scared, and I think I'm safe...but I'm tired so, I'm going to sleep for an hour or so. I hope you're okay, Gandalf...I hope everyone is...".

Nelly waited ten seconds – hoping Skip or any American voice would pick up.

But she was met by static.

"I'm safe to sleep...I set up a trap...". Nelly continued to say softly. "I've got enough water now and food...I'm okay...Eh...I'll try again with this radio every twelve hours...over and out". Nelly turned the radio off to save the battery and shoved it inside her musette bag. Leaning back against a bush, Nelly covered herself with the blanket and closed her eyes.

And she fell asleep.

...

Ten miles away, in the small hamlet of Le Grand Chemin, Winters had just led twelve men from Easy Company to destroy four gun emplacements at Brecourt Manor. When more men showed up with Lieutenant Welsh and with the support of tanks, they completed their mission by getting rid of the remaining machine-gun nests and hedgerows. When it got dark, they moved out to a secured causeway and set up a perimeter around the village in Sainte-Marie-du-Mont. Malarkey was extremely worried – none of his best friends was back. None of them had met Easy at the rally point. Sneaking off for some privacy, Malarkey pulled out his hand-held radio.

"Gandalf?" He called into the receiver. "Bilbo?"

Static. Malarkey didn't get a response. He tried again.

"Shit". He cursed, upon receiving no answer to his call.

"Malarkey, right?"

A voice asked behind him. Shoving the radio into his bag, Malarkey rose to his feet. It was Speirs. "Yes, sir".

Lowering his voice, Speirs asked, "Is my cousin here yet?"

And Malarkey said through a sigh, "She isn't, sir".

"Dammit...". Speirs hissed under his breath.

"Nelly's smart". Malarkey reminded him. "She's done this before, sir. I know she'll be alright".

Speirs's eyes shifted away from Malarkey. "I don't like the thought of her being alone out there".

"To be honest? Me neither, sir". He admitted quietly. "I'm hoping she's with Skip and Alex".

Speirs nodded faintly. And then looked at Malarkey again. "When she turns up, tell her to come straight to me, Malarkey".

"I will, sir". Malarkey promised.

Speirs and Malarkey weren't the only ones thinking about Nelly – Toye was beside himself. He couldn't keep still. And when Malarkey re-joined the worried Sergeant, Toye promised him. "I'm 'gonna kill that fucking kid".

Huffing softly, Malarkey sat on the edge of their foxhole.

Toye stopped pacing and faced Malarkey. "Do you think she's with the other shitheads?"

Malarkey shrugged. "I'm only hoping she is, Joe".

Frown meeting his face, Toye sat down next to Malarkey. "She's so little and Normandy's fucking huge...".

Malarkey's eyes stared out toward the orange sky. The sun was still setting but flames from buildings and distant fights lit up the clouds. Now Malarkey had his first taste of combat, he knew how fragile life was out in war. He realised that war was like a deadly athletic contest whose score they seldom knew even while they were playing the game. War was fought without context; where they didn't realize how their pieces fit inside this larger puzzle. That was Malarkey's thoughts after the Brecourt Manor assault. He just hoped they had done some good during that assault. That it was going to matter one day. Because fighting a war without matter or good, it didn't sit well with Malarkey.

"Hey". Toye gave Malarkey's side a nudge. "You good, kid?"

Clearing his throat, Malarkey nodded. "Yeah. I'm good, Joe".

"You shitheads are smart". Toye said to him. "Wherever the rest of them are, they're fine. I know it".

"Yeah". Malarkey agreed. Because he had to think that about his friends. He had to picture them alive and as safe as they could be. Malarkey couldn't picture them dead – he couldn't imagine them hanging dead from a tree, where they were left to die alone.

They had to be okay.