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January 1945

The siege of Bastogne was broken the day after Christmas when Patton's 3rd Army burst from the west on the southern end of the encirclement. With the siege broken, came an airdrop of supplies. To some extent, it helped. But the men were still cold, tired and hungry. Letters were handed out to men, where they read words from loved ones for the first time in weeks. It kicked up their morale. But then came New Year's Day, where Toye got hit by shrapnel on the arm and left the line. He made a promise to come back, and he put Nelly in charge of the squad until his return.

Her duties were much the same like in Holland. Waking men up for OP, leading a patrol whenever she was asked and making sure the men were okay and well. Most of her complaints had to do with the cold weather or frozen feet. Sheehy had a small case of trench foot but refused to leave the line. And Hughes's hands were grey and blue. But they didn't leave. With her foxhole buddy gone, Nelly didn't fancy being alone to freeze. So, she slid in with Buck while Guarnere was off doing his rounds.

"Hey, sport". As always, Buck greeted her kindly.

Back pressed against frozen mud, Nelly pulled her legs up toward her chest. "Hello, sir". She said back to him softly.

"Your guys alright?"

Nelly nodded. "Jackson and Papa are on OP…the rest sleep now".

White mist blew out of their mouths every time they exhaled – it was such a common sight, just as much as shivering. Buck's arm went around Nelly's shoulders. "Did you ever think, you'd end up in a place like this?" He asked her lightly – almost jokingly.

Nelly hadn't given much thought to that. "I don't know". She said, "I think…I've been…to a lot of places, sir".

"Places like this?" Buck asked, as his eyes looked around him. "In a cold foxhole?"

She replied, "Maybe…a worse place".

Buck frowned – torn between confusion and concern. "Worse than this?"

Nelly looked up at him, staring at the side of his face. "Yeah".

Now, Buck was concerned. He stared down at her. "What place?"

Mauthausen – is what she wanted to tell him. But instead, Nelly tapped her forehead. "Here". She whispered, "In my head…sir".

Buck's eyes softly widened. "Oh, sport". He sounded sad. And surprisingly, Buck knew a lot about that – about those dark patches in someone's mind. Malarkey was the same. Together, they all shared something in common. "Can I tell you something?" Buck said quietly, "And I've never shared this with anybody".

"I…won't tell anyone, sir". Nelly promised him.

"My pop…". Buck began to tell her in a hushed voice. "He was a drunk. And he'd hide it from us. I remember finding a bottle of booze in his car – he tried to hide it. And I blew up in his face. I said he was a sonofabitch, said I couldn't believe he was still doing this shit. And pop yelled back, told me I shouldn't talk to him like that – I'm still your father. Hell, I hate that memory".

Frowning softly, Nelly nodded – showing the Lieutenant she was listening.

Buck sighed. "Another shot I have of him – was finding pop sobbing in the bathroom after my grandparents had given him a hard time, telling pop he'd never made ends meet. He was a mess – doubled over, sobbing". Buck frowned. "I can't get that picture out of my head".

Nelly could understand – she still remembered finding her father crying when their cat died.

"I – uh – I had just come back from Jerry's place". Buck said quietly. "And I pulled up and parked. But I had to park in the street because a cop car was in the driveway. Before I even reached the front door, my neighbour came rushing out toward me and she was crying and I asked her what was wrong…she kept on crying out, 'your father'. So, I ran by her and walked into my house. Mom was on the couch, in tears. And then mom came over and hugged me and we hugged for a long time…". Buck said, "I just held her, let her cry it all out. And then I walked into the garage myself. He had connected a piece of garden hose to the muffler of the family car and put the other end up through the floorboard near the driver's seat. He backed the car into the garage, closed the garage door, climbed into the driver's seat, and started the engine".

Nelly's eyes filled with tears.

Buck wasn't looking – he was staring straight ahead as if he was back there. "He left me and mom a note – mine said, 'I'm proud of you, big boy".

Feeling a tear roll down her cheek, Nelly flicked the tear away.

"Mom's note said, 'I'm in the garage. Don't come in. No need for an autopsy. Call the police. Call somebody at the office about the insurance'. And all I could think was…no goodbye? No, I'm sorry? No, I can't take this anymore? It was just instructions". Buck whispered, "It just hits me sometimes, you know? Like this wave, it crashes over me from time to time. Who knows? Maybe I was thinking about pop tonight. Maybe that's why I told you. But you're just a kid – but so I was when it happened". Buck sighed and said, "Something told me, that you would understand more than anyone".

Nodding, Nelly blinked the rest of her tears away. "I…understand, sir".

Buck looked down at her – his eyes heavy but dry. "Listen, I know life is hard, sport. It's full of pain sometimes. There's so much pain and hurt in this world right now. But if we don't hold on, we'll never know if it ever got better – and ain't it worth sticking around to find out?" Buck gave her arm a rub. "Forty years from now, I'll bet…a lot of things will change. It'll be 1985 and we'll be sitting in a nice warm house, with family and friends and our bellies will be full. We'll be so happy, I'll bet". Buck's lips created a small smile.

Nelly's eyes searched his soft eyes. She told him, "You are…kind and brave, sir".

"Could say the same about you, sport".

With a gentle sniff, Nelly leaned into his side – her head falling below his chest. Her arm went around his middle. And she held him tightly. "1985…". She whispered. "That's where we'll be".

Buck's other arm went around Nelly. "That's where we'll be, sport". He confirmed gently.

Nelly closed her eyes and tried to picture a living room, where everyone was gathered around in front of a fire – drinking, eating and laughing. The radio would be on – an old Glenn Miller hit would play, and they'd think about the night they saw Glenn Miller in England. Malarkey would tell everyone to quieten down while Miller played – Skip would crack a joke and Alex would ask Nelly to dance. She'd be in her fifties – so would Alex. But they'd dance as though they were kids in love again – like the first night they danced in Swindon. 1985 sounded perfect.

Nelly ended up falling asleep while thinking of that specific year.

And Buck continued to hold the girl close to his chest.

...

On the 2nd of January, 2nd Battalion was ordered to clear the woods northeast of the Foy-Bizory Road. At first light, the men formed skirmish lines into the snow and began moving forward. Fearing the denseness of the woods, Nelly was tempted to bunch the squad up in case she lost anyone. A few Platoons and squads did end up losing contact with each other. It was tense and frightening. Things came to a head when a machine gun opened fire right in front of Easy. Ducking down for cover, the bullets whizzed overhead. At the back of Easy, Malarkey was already cranking up his mortar – thank God for Malarkey. No one had to give him the order, he just did it. And then, they were hit by German artillery because American artillery had opened fire. Caught in the middle of it all, Easy had to lie and wait until it ended.

At least Malarkey took out the MG-42.

The advance resumed and once again, they were halted by German OPs and their machine guns. American artillery took care of it that time. But as the shellings started, cries for medics could be heard all around the dense and snowy woods. And more MG-42s opened fire – right in front of them. Nelly felt something land on her lap and a warmness. She looked down. And her eyes widened – it was Hughes.

"Ritchie?" She called out to him, giving his shoulders a shake.

His eyes stared up at Nelly – and she could see the light and life leave his pupils. Bullets had shot right through his chest, reaching his heart and killing him almost instantly.

Memories just popped up into her head as Nelly watched her friend die across her lap. They shared some bad times – like those arguments during recon missions. And times when it was more sentimental and softer. Laughter too – a lot of laughter. Nelly's chest wanted to explode. Gently, her fingers closed Hughes's eyelids.

Behind her, she heard Jackson cry out, "No!"

Carefully, Nelly pulled Hughes's body off her lap and then grabbed a hold of Jackson's arm. The only thing left to do now was to keep going.

"Let's go!" She yelled, "Everyone! On your feet!" She ordered. "Let's go!" Nelly didn't care if that machine gun wasn't silent. She was going to go right over there, and silence it herself. The MG-42 was placed in a hole – much like their outposts. She gave another yell to the squad, "Get up! Let's kill this fucking shithead!"

Sometimes, rage was the best option.

Sometimes, it was the only option after watching a friend die.

Rising to her feet, Nelly charged between the trees toward the German machine gunners. And behind her, the squad followed. Grabbing a grenade, Nelly unclipped it once she was close to the gun and she tossed the grenade right into the OP. Shots were fired out from the squad, as a few survivors tried climbing out of the foxhole.

The MG was silenced but Hughes was still dead. But Nelly had to keep it together. Toye wasn't around – she was in charge. If she crumbled, she would let her Sergeant down. The men moved forward and continued clearing the woods. It soon came to be the "1000-yard attack", and the men didn't stop until it got dark.

Exhausted, they were ordered to dig in for the night because they were still harassed by sporadic fire and needed to keep an eye on the woods. Nelly's main concern was the squad – they had just lost Hughes. She put Babe on OP for the first two hours and decided she'd do the rest of the night. The squad needed a break – Nelly would make sure they'd rest.

After helping Jackson and Ed Joint dig in, Nelly moved away from them and went over to check on Sheehy and Lesniewski but Guarnere soon stopped in front of her. "Okay?"

Nelly nodded. "Yeah".

"Good". He clapped her shoulder and smiled, "You're fucking nuts – charging at the MG".

"I was…angry".

"Yeah, no shit". Guarnere snorted. He added, "Saved us some time, 'ya know – thanks".

Lipton was soon standing next to Guarnere and he looked down at Nelly. "How're you doing, buddy? Your boys alright?"

All of a sudden, the day just caught up with her. Hughes's blood was now like icy water on her trousers. And she felt herself shrink – because everything around her felt enormous. The men, and the grief. The trees. Everything. It towered over her, like a giant. Feeling her legs start to wobble like jelly, her boot raised from the snow, and she stumbled backwards. Reaching out, Lipton took a hold of her arm, to stop Nelly from falling.

His face was a picture of concern. "Hey – buddy, are you okay?"

Staring up at him, Nelly nodded. Though her eyes were wide, and they looked a little worried and scared. Lipton was reminded of a kid who just had a bad dream. "Yeah". Nelly whispered.

"Are you sure?" He asked softly.

1985 – she reminded herself. That was going to be her year. 1985. She'll be in her fifties, she'll be with Alex, Malarkey and Skip. They'll listen to Glenn Miller on the radio and remember some of the better moments in the war. "I'm…fine, Lip". Nelly said to him softly. "I'm just…tired".

Before Lipton could say another word, a single shot rang out.

Which wasn't strange.

But what was strange, was Rader yelling out, "It's Hoobs! He's hit!"

Turning on his heel and letting go of Nelly, Lipton ran toward Rader – and Nelly followed. As they reached the scene, Hoobler was lying on the ground, shaking. Both Nelly and Lipton got down next to Hoobler – Nelly was sitting close to Hoobler's head while Lipton tried to locate the wound. Rader mentioned his leg, and Lipton started there. A medic had already been called. Hoobler looked over at Nelly. And for a brief moment, he almost smiled.

"H-hey…". Even his voice was shaking.

"Hi". Nelly greeted back quietly.

Weakly, Hoobler raised his hand. "Friends…hold hands". He wouldn't admit he was scared.

Nelly tightly took a hold of his hand. "They do". She confirmed.

Lipton was trying to rip away at the many layers of fabric wrapped around Hoobler. He was layered with towels and sheets, in an attempt to keep himself warm. And blood soaked through each and every layer. "What happened?" Lipton asked, trying to distract himself and everyone else.

"His gun went off". Rader said, "The one he got from the Kraut he shot".

Hoobler let out a small and nervous laugh. "Good shot…right?"

"Yeah, it was". Rader said to his friend. "Fucking fantastic shot – I wish I saw it, pal. He was on a horse and everything, huh?"

"Y-yeah".

"You're…great". Nelly told him, "The best".

Hoobler hummed – it sounded close to a laugh. "Yeah? Me?"

"You". Nelly confirmed softly. She said, "At the bar…with the fight…and then after…you made me laugh so hard…for the first time ever. You're the best".

Hoobler weakly squeezed her hand. "Those…buns, huh?"

Nelly smiled small and nodded.

He soon shifted. And groaned. "Jesus". He choked out, "Fucking…hurt…".

Rader looked over his shoulder and yelled, "Medic!"

And then Roe appeared – they all somewhat relaxed at the sight of him. Lipton shifted out of the way and Roe's hand reached under the layers of clothes to reach the wound. He pressed down – hard – and Hoobler whimpered. "It's okay, Hoobler". Roe soothed, "It's alright, now".

Shrugging off his jacket, Rader got down and placed it over Hoobler's chest. "Keep you warm, huh?"

"T-thanks". Hoobler replied quietly – faintly.

Rader's hand rested atop of his jacket – right on Hoobler's chest.

It was dark. Hoobler was wearing too many layers. Roe looked at Lipton. Nelly watched the stare between them and felt her heart drop into her stomach. Her eyes peered back down at Hoobler. He was a lot paler now than before. His lips had turned blue. And his blue lips parted – when he faintly called out, "Nelly…".

Her free hand went to the side of his face – he was so cold. "Yeah?" Nelly whispered.

Hoobler didn't say anything – he only let out a long breath and his body, very peacefully, went limp. Nelly could feel his hand grow floppy in her hold. Once again, Nelly watched the life leave one of her friend's eyes. Rader, in a small state of shock, slumped back on his heels; Lipton did the same – while Roe sighed sharply and dropped a towel he was holding.

Eyes closing, Nelly took in a deep breath – to compose herself. Setting her jaw, she opened her eyes and gently set Hoobler's hand down by his chest. Staring at his face, Nelly carefully brushed the mud off his cheek and forehead and then she closed his eyelids.

Rader reached over and grabbed a hold of Nelly's shoulder.

She looked at him.

But he didn't meet her eyes when telling Nelly, "Thank you".

Nelly didn't know what for, but she never asked. Instead, she nodded and whispered, "Okay".

1985.

Exhaling out another deep breath, Nelly rose to her feet. "I'll…call for the jeep".

"Thank you, buddy". Lipton said quietly.