bob
It stopped raining the next morning. The clouds parted and the sun shone against a blue and clear sky. Climbing out of her foxhole, Nelly rubbed the sleep from her eyes and then dragged her kit out of the mud. They had twenty minutes before they left, which gave the men a chance to grab a lukewarm cup of coffee. And shave. Because the men were still expected to save every morning. Nelly parked by Toye, who was carefully dragging a razor under his chin.
"It's such a stupid rule".
Toye agreed with her, "I know". He sighed. "I don't even shave every fucking morning back home". He joked, "Guess we've 'gotta look good for the Krauts, huh, kid?"
"You'll make them blush". Nelly jokingly warned him.
Toye chuckled. And then asked, "You ready to go?"
"Yeah".
"Good". Toye approved. "Me and Jim will round the rest up soon – once I finish this".
Twenty minutes later and 2nd Battalion moved out – with Easy taking the lead this time. 1st Platoon took to the front. The men were all spread out along the road. Tension was quietly sneaking its way in after what happened yesterday. The Germans knew the Americans had arrived in the Netherlands.
The Paratrooper rapidly approached the city, seeing as they were met with no resistance. But that all soon changed once they reached the outskirts of Eindhoven.
Very suddenly, an 88mm gun opened fire and cut the advancing troopers in half. Ducking for cover, the men fired back – mostly hitting nothing. And it was there, that Winters gathered up Easy and ordered them to approach the city from the north. The flat fields approaching the city were devoid of cover. Men were bent at the waist as they marched north. And sensing trouble ahead, Winters had Lieutenant Brewer lead 1st Platoon on a scouting mission. Brewer took lead scout. 2nd and 3rd Platoon hung back and remained as back-up.
Opening her musette bag, Nelly was searching for food but found her old hand-held radio instead. Skip must have snuck it inside her bag in England. Idly, Nelly fiddled with the buttons and flicked the antenna with her fingers.
But then Winters turned around to face her.
"Get 1st Platoon". His order was urgent.
Frowning, Nelly nodded and fiddled around with the buttons. Getting a signal was easy in the flat lands of Holland. Nelly was soon in contact with George Luz. "CP's coming at you".
"Hold for the Lt". Luz replied.
Nelly handed Winters the radio. And then she decided to look to see what had Winters worried. It didn't take her long to figure it all out. Lieutenant Brewer stood very tall, and he made a great target for the Germans. Brewer stood alone, away from his Platoon. And he waved his arms in obvious gestures of command. His map case and binoculars were in plain sight. The Germans tended to look out for Officers to hit.
"Get back!" Winters said into the mouthpiece, "Drop back. Drop back!"
A single shot was fired out. Nelly flinched, as she watched the bullet hit Brewer right in the throat. Like everyone else, she was convinced the man was dead. But he began to wriggle around on the field, his hand desperately clutching his wound.
"He's alive!" Nelly gasped.
But still, Winters cursed, "Goddammit".
Nelly looked at him. "Sir, he's alive!"
"What?" Winters set her a frown. "He got shot in the throat, Murray".
"Look!"
Following her pointed finger, Winters soon saw the Lieutenant shifting on the ground. "Oh, God – okay".
And before Winters could give an order, Smokey and several other men tried to reach Brewer to help him. One of them being Al Mampre – Nelly's old Platoon medic. But as the troops made their way to help the Lieutenant, the enemy opened fire. Sporadic fire harassed the advance, but Nelly could see Mampre had made it to Brewer's side. Knowing they needed to get out of there as quickly as possible, Winters began pushing his men forward. Winters ran quickly toward his 1st Platoon and took over for Brewer. And as Nelly made her way past Brewer and Mampre, she heard the medic yelp out in pain.
Eyes widening, Nelly dropped to the ground and moved toward Mampre. "Where?!" She yelled above the roar of fire.
Mampre was rolling up his trousers – the bullet had peeled his flesh off, all the way down to the bone. His lower leg looked like a raw steak. But he still assured Nelly, "Get out of here, kiddo. I'll be alright".
"But – "
"go on, it's fine". Mampre cut her protest off with a tight smile. "I'll see you soon".
"Kid!" Toye's yelled out sharply. "Where the fuck are you?!"
"Go, Nelly! Run!" Mampre urged.
With a nod, Nelly pushed herself up from the ground and ran like the wind. Bullets buzzed by her ears like flies and hit the ground, causing mud to shoot up like small fountains. She made it back to Easy in one piece. But it wasn't over yet. The Germans rained down their 88s. Looking over her shoulder, Nelly cast an anxious stare to where Brewer and Mampre were. She could feel her heart sink into her stomach – while thinking a shell could have killed them. But Nelly continued to run. Though, she ran with a tiny whimper at the thought of anything happening to Mampre.
A few men from Battalion HQ were soon present to silence those 88s with their mortars and Lindsey's bazooka. Reaching the outskirts of Eindhoven, Winters halted his Company and had them sit outside of a Church. He had to make sure no one else got hurt. Nelly's palms rubbed at her tearful eyes. Taking in a few shaky breaths, she faced the field again – hoping to see Mampre and Brewer leaving. But she didn't see anybody. She only saw a partly destroyed building and Americans rounding up a bunch of German prisoners.
"No, come on...none of that". A kind but firm voice told Nelly off.
With a tiny sniff, Nelly nodded and rubbed her eyes.
Nixon gave her shoulder a clap. "Go sit with your squad, Murray".
"Okay, sir". She mumbled – voice still on the verge of breaking.
And while Nelly walked over to the church, Nixon made his way toward Winters.
"Christ, Nix". Winters whispered.
"Rookie move, buddy". Nixon said to him quietly.
"We're down a medic too". Winters said, "I can't find Mampre or Brewer".
"Maybe they got out?"
Winters faced his friend with a frown. "How?"
Shrugging, Nixon lit a cigarette. "Plenty of Dutch around to help".
Winters's eyes landed on the partly destroyed house. "Yeah...well, maybe they got help".
"You okay?"
Winters faced Nixon again. He nodded. "I'm fine". He said, "Let's get going".
"Easy's the lead". Nixon said.
"I'll put 2nd Platoon in Eindhoven first".
...
Snipers and 88s didn't greet 2nd Platoon in Eindhoven. The fiercely welcoming Dutch did. They waved their orange flags and rushed out onto the streets to greet the Americans. Women kissed the soldiers, and men hugged or shook their hands. And the Paratroopers were handed a lot of treats – such as beer, milk, honey, and jarred goods. The Dutch also begged for their autographs and a picture taken with the soldiers. And while the eager enlisted enjoyed the attention, Officers and some Sergeants were keen to keep the men going forward.
Nelly remembered Eindhoven differently. But now the Dutch were free and wanted to celebrate and thank the Americans. Slowly shifting forward, Nelly snuck away from her squad and walked through an eager and happy group of Dutch before entering a random house. All the nerves and anxiety she was feeling didn't bode well with her bladder. Closing the front door, Nelly turned around and soon discovered a young Dutch woman standing there.
"What are you doing here?" Nelly found herself asking. Which she soon discovered to be a silly question because the house probably belonged to the Dutch woman. Clearing her throat with a sheepish smile, Nelly took a step toward her. "Eh...toilet?"
Smiling, the woman gestured toward a door. "In there". She politely told Nelly.
"Thank you".
Heading in that direction – quickly – Nelly stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She had to be quick before Toye discovered Nelly was missing. However, before Nelly even pulled down her trousers, she heard the front door slam open. Fastening up her button, Nelly grabbed her rifle and exited the bathroom. Two Dutchmen were grabbing the young woman, and not too gently either. The young woman cried and begged in Dutch. And Nelly bit back a gasp when one of the Dutchmen slapped the woman across the cheek.
"Oh...shit...". Nelly whispered.
The woman sobbed loudly. Screaming and crying in Dutch.
Nelly hardly knew any Dutch. Stepping toward them, she whispered, "Oke?"
One Dutchman spat on the woman's face. "Verrader!" He snapped.
Nelly raised one calming hand. "Just...calm down, please".
"Verrader!" He snapped again.
The woman cried harder.
And then, to Nelly's horror, another man ripped off the woman's dress. Standing only in her underdress and stockings, the woman shivered and wailed. Nelly frowned with deep worry and anxiety. Taking in a deep breath, Nelly approached one of the Dutchmen. "Let her go". She tried to keep her voice firm but sounded weak and small. "Just...don't touch her or anything...".
And he hissed, "Verrader".
"I don't...I don't know what that means...". Nelly whispered fearfully.
The Dutch woman grabbed Nelly's arm. "Please...please!" She sobbed.
Nelly could feel her eyes sting with tears. "Please, don't hurt her...".
A man slapped the woman once more and then proceeded to drag her out of the house, kicking and screaming. Of course, Nelly followed after them – just a few steps behind. Soon, the sound of angry cheers could be heard – the Dutchmen were leading the crying women toward an angry mod. Squeezing and pushing past people, Nelly soon found herself standing in a circle. And in that circle, were women – in their underwear, getting their heads shaved with clippers – much like the clippers they used on Nelly in Mauthausen.
She remembered sitting naked on a wooden stool, while a man roughly sheered her hair off her head with sharp clippers. He tore small chunks of flesh from her scalp and skull. And she bled. The blood tickled, as it rolled down her face, toward her ears and the back of her neck. Nelly didn't make a sound while he clipped her hair. But she did shake.
It was somewhat different in Eindhoven.
Some women didn't make a sound – others screamed.
Blood trickled down their faces, as the clippers tore into their skin.
Nelly had this strong and loud urge inside of her body. It was wrong. What the Dutchmen were doing was wrong. Nelly didn't care what those women might have done – they didn't deserve to be stripped naked and tormented in front of the entire city. Nelly knew how that felt and it was not a good feeling. Her eyes landed on the women from the house. Their eyes met. Tears were still streaming down her face – tears mixed with blood. Nelly took hold of her rifle and stepped forward. She moved toward the man currently sheering the woman's hair.
Nelly cocked her weapon, and the Dutchman faced her.
Instead of concerned or frightened, he appeared confused.
"Oh, God...Nelly!" Skip yelled from the crowd. "Buddy, get away from him!"
Chest heaving, Nelly kept the rifle up – the barrel aimed toward the Dutchman's head. "You hurt her...why?" She asked him – and surprisingly, her voice sounded mild and calm.
"Verrader".
"I don't know...". And then Nelly snapped, "I don't know what that fucking means!"
"Sport!" Came Buck's voice, "Lower your weapon!"
Nelly ignored her Lieutenant and kept her eyes focused on the Dutchman. "What does it mean?" She asked – her voice slightly shaking.
"Uh...". The Dutchman began thinking of the English word. "Collaborator".
That changed everything.
Nelly's eyebrows twitched. She looked at the sobbing and shaking woman. Blinking a few times, she suddenly felt a little woozy. Lips rubbing together, Nelly sunk in a sharp breath. She took a small and stumbled step toward the woman. "You...".
"Nelly!" A sharp voice ordered. "Get back here – right now!"
Nelly's frown twisted with a mix of emotions – anger and shock, mostly. "You...". She whispered as the woman continued to cry. If it wasn't for those collaborators, Nelly would have never been captured and imprisoned at Mauthausen and most of the agents would still be alive. Nelly knew the collaborators were around – she didn't expect to see them. Hands shaking, the rifle dropped onto the ground. Nelly's breathing picked up. And sickening rage pumped through her blood. A feral look reached her eyes. "You...bitch!" Nelly screamed and lunged toward the crying woman.
"No, Nelly – no!"
Politely, the Dutchman stepped aside.
Nelly crashed into the woman – she fell off the chair and they both landed on the ground.
"Alstublieft!" The Dutch woman begged and cried. "Alstublieft!"
But Nelly was on top of her, where she punched the woman on the bridge of the nose. And then punched her again, under the jaw. Nelly got two punches before arms went around her waist – pulling her off of the woman. Nelly didn't protest as she was carried away. She remained quiet, save her shaky and rapid breathing. Away from the angry mob and down the end of a street, she was released. Nelly turned around and looked up.
Winters did not look happy – in fact, he looked very disappointed. "Dammit, Murray".
There were still traces of anger in her voice and eyes. "She deserved it – they all do".
Very lowly, Winters warned her, "You watch your damn tone, Private".
Jaw clenched; her stare hardened into Winters's eyes. "They...deserve it. Sir".
"I'm so disappointed in you". Winters said to her – there was still a hint of anger in his voice. And he truly did sound very disappointed. "I thought you knew better than that, Murray".
"I feel...no regret, sir". Nelly's voice was still hard.
With a shake of his head, Winters sharply told her, "Get back to your squad!"
At that moment, Nelly didn't care what Winters thought – she didn't care what anyone thought. She felt she had done the right thing. But of course, like with all feelings, they passed. And Nelly was soon back with Toye, eyes facing toward the collaborators. The women were bloody, crying and frightened. Their heads were shaven, and they wore long and baggy shirts with no shoes. And they were forced out of the city – some women even carried their babies.
Slumping on the ground, Nelly's hand rubbed her forehead. "Shit...". She whispered.
Now she felt regret.
And of course, guilt. Because she was already a naturally guilty person.
The 506th did its job – they made it through Eindhoven and secured the bridge over the Dommel. It was still standing when they reached the bridge. The British XXX Corps arrived by mid-afternoon and stopped in the centre of the city for a cup of tea before doing their actual job. Any guilty feelings toward losing the bridge at Son were short-lived, upon viewing the relaxed and unconcerned British soldiers. But the bridge was secured – that was the main thing. And with the bridge secured, men dug in for the night.
Outposts were set up by banks, bridges, roadways and around the outskirts of Eindhoven. Those who weren't on duty were free to explore the city and continue to celebrate with the Dutch. Nelly wasn't on duty, but she stayed put on the other side of Eindhoven and across the Dommel River.
"Why did you do it?" Jackson quietly asked her, "Why did you hurt that lady?"
"I just...felt like it". Nelly whispered.
Frowning, Jackson shook his head. "It was wrong, Nelly".
They were both sat in their foxhole, bunched up to keep the chill off their bodies.
Jackson looked at Nelly. "She was already hurting".
Setting her jaw, Nelly nodded.
And she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.