bob
Returning to Easy the next day, Nelly gave what little information she had gathered to Nixon. He made up his mind to send out a patrol that very day. And he relayed his plan to Winters. Nixon was told to ask for volunteers. No one raised their hand. So, Nixon was forced to pick a group for the patrol. He picked Lesniewski, Blithe, Guarnere and Nelly. The four of them packed up their weapons and left for the farmhouse. Blithe offered to be lead scout – no one had any objections. Nelly was right behind him in case he should ever need to know the way. Blithe took all the right steps and ended up by the row of hedgerows, close to where the recon mission was placed last night. And upon reaching the same hedgerow Nelly was behind last night, Blithe turned to look at her.
And he said, "It's quiet".
Her eyes widened slightly. But Nelly found herself nodding, agreeing with him. "We stick behind these hedges...then you'll find a gap about...thirty yards away from the house. So, we won't have cover".
"We have back-up". Guarnere whispered, "One mile from here, behind the hedgerow. A medic, machine guns. Punchy and a squad".
The other three nodded as they took in what Guarnere told them.
And then Guarnere sighed and said, "Man, I need a smoke".
Lesniewski snorted with amusement. "Do what I do...don't smoke a lot".
"I've had...one cigarette". Nelly said, "From Hoobs".
"Quit while you're ahead". Guarnere joked. "It sure feels good but man, oh man...can't get off the fucking things".
"Like a girl". Blithe joked.
"Exactly". Guarnere ginned. "Those English Broads love them some Billie".
With a somewhat amused smile, Lesniewski rolled his eyes. "Not in front of the kid, Bill".
Chuckling quietly, Guarnere looked at Nelly. "Sorry, Nelly".
Curiously, she asked, "You're talking about...sex, right?"
There was an awkward pause.
Blithe changed the subject. "Let's go, I'm ready".
Spreading out, Lesniewski stayed on the right and Guarnere held the rear. With Blithe in lead, Nelly wasn't too far behind him. Her eyes would occasionally look up toward the top window whenever she got the chance – the same window she saw the two Germans in last night. But it seemed they were no longer there. Nelly thought the house was no longer occupied. So, they pressed on and headed toward the gap between the last hedgerow and the farmhouse. Blithe's hand raised in the air, he created a fist and pulled it down.
The patrol halted. Guarnere and Lesniewski were taking cover by the hedgerow behind Nelly and Blithe. On her knees, Nelly moved closer to Blithe until she was directly behind him. And Blithe looked over his shoulder to face the girl. "I don't think we should all head up".
With a nod, Nelly looked behind her and signalled for Lesniewski and Guarnere to stay put. She turned back around and gave Blithe's shoulder a clap. "Okay". She whispered to him.
They rose to their feet but stayed hunched at the waist. The terrain was different as they neared the farmhouse, it was filled with thick roots and thorn bushes. The gap was very narrow, with low entwined and twisted branches. Nelly grabbed a hold of those branches and pulled them out of the way. Blithe must have forgotten she was behind him because when he pulled a branch back, he released it, and the branch would hit Nelly in the face. It distracted Nelly. The entire narrow path was distracting.
Eyes raising from a root that tried to trip her up, Nelly looked at Blithe. One second, he was standing and the next, he dropped. She almost didn't hear the shot ring out before hitting Blithe. All's Nelly saw was Blithe's body falling back into her. And Nelly held out her arms, ready to catch the falling man but his weight pushed Nelly back onto the ground. When they both hit the ground, Nelly soon heard shots behind fired at them from the farmhouse.
"Shit...Bill!" Nelly yelled, "Papa! Blithe's down!"
She could feel warm blood soaking into her jacket. The bullet had hit the back of Blithe's neck and a piece of his collarbone came off from the bullet. The blood was coming from a large hole on the back of Blithe's shoulder. Nelly sat herself up slightly, and Blithe's head fell onto her lap. With a shaky sigh, she stared down at the young man and saw that his expression was calm.
"Oh, Blithe...". She whispered somewhat soothingly.
He didn't respond.
"Hold on, maluch!" Lesniewski yelled. "We're coming!"
Ducking her head, Nelly felt a bullet whiz right over her helmet. "Jesus...". She whispered.
"Nelly!" She heard Guarnere yell. "Talk to us!"
To avoid the bullets pumping out from the top window, Nelly lay flat on her back. "Okay!" She called back to Guarnere – not quite sure how to respond.
"Is he alive?!" Lesniewski asked.
"Yeah!"
What happened next was a bit of a blur. Lesniewski stuck a t-shirt from his pocket inside the hole in Blithe's shoulder. And then he picked Blithe up and tossed him over his shoulder. Nelly felt Guarnere grab her arm and pull her up. Guarnere sharply told them to run, and they did – they ran through the narrow path and headed back toward the hedgerows, all the while the Germans shot at them. Bullets went by their ears like flies, but they never got hit. At one hedge, Lesniewski placed Blithe over Guarnere's shoulder. Moving away from cover, bullets came at them again. And during their run toward the line, Nelly tripped and fell flat on her stomach.
The Germans diverted their aim toward the fallen girl.
She was stuck – if she raised any inch of her body, she'd get hit.
And all Nelly could think was "France hates me".
"Don't move!" Nelly heard the men yell. "Stay down!"
It was unnerving for her, hearing and seeing bullets drop on the grass by her head. Nelly was pretty sure she was going to die. Alone. Eyes closing, Nelly's hand sneaked up from the grass to cover her ears. Every muscle in her body was tense, while she waited for that one bullet to claim her short life. And all Nelly could think about were them – the men. Hugs from friends. Winters's hand clapping her shoulder. Toye smiling. Speirs watching her feed the penguins. Nelly didn't want to die out in a field while the men watched. Hands leaving her ears, Nelly's fingernails dug deep into the grass, and she began dragging herself toward Easy.
"Nelly, stay!" That voice belonged to Toye. "We're 'gonna get him but you've 'gotta stay!"
"Get that fucking mortar going!" Guarnere snapped.
"Joe!" Nelly's scream cut into the hearts of the men who could hear.
"I know, kid!" Toye yelled back to her, "It's 'gonna be okay!"
She was only fifteen or so yards away from Easy's line and the hedgerow. And she was glued to the grass, unable to move. Nelly was scared. She was terrified. For the first time since dropping into Normandy, Nelly felt genuine, palm sweating, terror. And her body froze.
"Bub, we've almost got you!" Punchy yelled to her. "Stay where you are, you're doing great!"
Easy had opened fire as soon as they saw Nelly was stuck. But Nelly didn't know that, she thought Easy's bullets also belonged to the Germans. When in reality, only two MG-42s were directed at the fallen girl. She screamed into the grass. Nelly was gasping out each and every breath. Her fingers nails dug and gripped the mud so tightly that one ended up snapping off. Nelly's stomach knotted at the feeling of her nail coming away from her finger.
Not even two minutes had gone by since Nelly fell to the ground. But it felt like hours. Once he had a range, Malarkey shoved a shell into his mortar and fired. The shell screeched into the air and collided into the top-story window of the farmhouse. Brick and debris spewed out from the side and the MG-42s were silenced. Pushing herself up slightly, Nelly spotted Toye and Punchy racing toward her. She was sitting up on her knees when the two men quickly crouched by the girl, their eyes scanning for wounds and blood.
Toye breathed out a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank God...".
Punchy set a hand on Nelly's shoulder. "You okay?"
Truth was, Nelly looked pale and very shaken. But she nodded to Punchy's question. Toye soon noticed the blood dripping from her finger. He frowned. "Ah, shit".
"Don't worry". Punchy said calmly. "We'll get that taken care of".
"Joe! Is Nelly okay?!" Malarkey called urgently from the hedge.
"Fine!" Toye called back.
Nelly's eyes looked between the two Sergeants. "Blithe...is he...dead?"
"No, bub". Punchy assured her, "Blithe's 'gonna be okay".
"And...and I'm okay?"
"You're great, kid". Toye said, "Let's get out of here".
Taking a hold of Nelly's arm, Toye pulled her up. And the three of them walked to the hedgerow and into Easy's mainline. She was soon sitting down, back pressed against the hedge while Roe tended to her finger. After a wipe, Roe placed a small bandage around it and then he left for the rear. Nelly frowned at her nail-less finger. She couldn't believe fear did that. Nelly's head rubbed at her forehead as she rose to her feet again.
Life on the line was just that sometimes, scary.
However, most of the time, it was disgusting.
...
They hadn't showered in weeks. Men couldn't shave, their hair was matted with mud, dirt, dust and sweat. And their uniforms were no better – bloody, muddy, stinking. The men each had the same stench – sweat, blood and shit. There was nowhere from them to wash. They just had to sit in their own stench. Nelly took off her helmet one day and discovered lice. It almost reminded her of Mauthausen. Conditions in that camp were far worse. But life on the line was just filth. It was embarrassing for Nelly to find lice in her helmet and hair. However, she wasn't the only one. And if it wasn't lice, it was dysentery. A lot of men suffered from dysentery. Some had it worse than others. And those who had it really bad were pulled to the rear.
"Oh, God...". Nelly was standing by their latrine trench. It was like someone had died down there – flies were everywhere. Shaking her head, Nelly took a few steps back. Fuck that, she thought to herself. It was no wonder dysentery was spreading – their latrine was a cesspit for the virus to live and grow. But men were tired and weak. Nelly was tired and weak. But she was also frightened of contracting the virus.
Reaching Winters's CP, the man was sat on the edge of his foxhole, looking over a map.
"Sir".
His head raised and he gave Nelly a tiny smile. "Hey, trooper".
"Sir...". Nelly's finger pointed toward the general direction of the slit trench. "It's...it's too much...too much...". There was some emotion pouring out of her voice.
Winters frowned. "What is?" He sounded concerned.
Nelly kept pointing. "The shit...". She shivered. And her voice rose an octave, "It's too much".
He might have found that funny if their circumstances were different. Winters set down his map and stood up. "Show me".
So, Nelly led the way toward the enlisted men's slit trench. And once there, Winters's eyes actually watered at the smell. He turned his head to the side and pulled a face. He took in a breath, of fresh air and set his hands lightly on his hips. Nelly was right, it was too much.
"Yeah...that's bad". He said.
"I can't...I can't go in there". Nelly told him.
"Oh, God, don't...". Winters agreed with a grimace. "No wonder everyone's getting sick". He said, mostly to himself.
Nelly made a hum of agreement. And then said, "We have to...burry it, sir".
"Yeah". Winters said, "We'll make a new one".
He didn't have to do anything. But Winters did. They both grabbed their entrenching tools and got to work covering up the slit trench. They both had bandanas around their mouths and noses, to protect them not only from the smell but from the flies. Tool sticking into the mud, Nelly tossed it into the slit trench. And then she chuckled.
"What's so funny?" Winters asked.
Nelly continued to chuckle. "It's just...cleaning shit, sir".
He huffed. "It's not what I expected to be doing in combat".
"We even smell like shit".
An amused smile met Winters's lips. "We do". He agreed.
Smiling, Nelly continued to cover the trench with mud. "But...I feel like a happy pig". Nelly said.
And she didn't give much context – Winters was confused. "Sorry?"
"A happy pig in shit, sir". Nelly explained lightly.
Huffing out a quiet laugh, Winters nodded. "Oh, I see".
"Happy because...we're cleaning, sir". Nelly continued to explain. "Doing something productive".
He smiled. And then joked, "I'll remember that for next time, kiddo".
"Oh, no...". Nelly said with a tiny chuckle. "What did I do?"
Winters chuckled. And he joked again, "You just dug yourself a hole, trooper".
She may have laughed too hard at Winters's pun. "I get it...yeah, sir".
After covering the old slit trench, they created a new one ten feet away. Out with the old, in with the new, that's what Winters said when they started digging. And he had this moment, where he remembered doing something similar with his father as a kid – they were digging in the back garden at his old family home. Pulling down his bandana, Winters looked over at Nelly, who was busy shovelling mud. Winters used to love those simple moments with his father, where they'd be outside in the garden, digging soil and planting vegetables. Winters thought to himself sadly that Nelly probably didn't have those happy moments with her father.
And then the girl looked up and smiled at the Lieutenant. "Thanks, sir...this is great".
Winters huffed softly.
"Thanks, dad. This is fun". He remembered his younger self saying to his dad.
Pushing those sentimental memories aside, Winters gave her a kind smile. "You're welcome, kiddo. Happy to help".
And while inside the trench and widening it, Nelly got to think of nicknames. A lot of men had a nickname. Papa, Wild Bill, Skipper, Malark, Penky, Smokey, Sonny. Nelly looked toward at her Lieutenant and wondered if the men had a name for him. She remembered Bill calling him a Quaker once – and then Toye dismissing that. Nelly didn't know what a Quaker was.
"Sir?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you a Quaker?"
The entrenching tool slipped from his hands. Winters looked at the girl. "Pardon me?" He almost sounded offended.
Nelly's eyes widened slightly. "Oh, dear...". She whispered. She had said the wrong thing.
Winters's head cocked to the side. "Do you know what that is?"
She shook her head.
His features softened. Winters smiled. "No, trooper. I'm not a Quaker". He said, "Quakers don't fight – they're pacifists".
"Paca – what?" Nelly frowned.
"Peacekeepers". Winters briefly explained. "They don't believe in violence or war".
Nelly pulled a thoughtful frown. "Oh". She mumbled. "Okay, sir".
With a small huff of laughter, Winters got back to digging.
"Sir?"
"Yeah?"
"Do I have a nickname?"
"Nelly, Quaker isn't a nickname". Winters patiently told her. "It's a belief".
"Oh, I just – ah!" Nelly suddenly screamed. And she fell back in fright.
Winters dropped his entrenching tool and rushed over to the girl. "What?" He asked mildly alarmed while crouching in front of her. "What is it?"
Eyes as wide as plates, Nelly gave a faint nod toward the side of the trench directly opposite her. And Winters took a moment to prepare himself because whatever that was, he had to deal with it. After a few mentally encouraging words to himself, Winters turned around. And saw a fairly large spider crawl up the side of the trench. Winters's shoulders dropped with relief – he was excepting to find something horrifying staring back at him.
"We can't...pee here...". Nelly whispered – voice sounding deadly serious.
Trying his hardest not to smile with amusement, Winters calmly told her. "I'll take care of it, don't you worry".
And Nelly watched horrified, as her fearless Lieutenant scooped the spider up and tossed it out of the trench. Nelly thought man's nerves were made of steel. She could never. Nelly shuddered and got back onto her feet. "Those...things...are scarier than the Germans, sir".
Winters tutted, in a light-hearted manner. "Oh, come on...you've faced a lot worse than a little spider, trooper".
"Little, sir?" Nelly stressed quietly, "That was...was bigger than my hand".
Winters chuckled quietly and said, "Come on, back to work".