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Reaching their objective in the west woods of Foy, Easy was ordered to dig in. Nelly made her rounds on the squad, making sure they were digging up good foxholes for the night. She wasn't sure how long they'd remain in their current position – she wanted each foxhole deep and wide enough to do them at least a week. Branches were hard to hack down when few trees were left standing. But they made do. And with the snow showers off and on, instead of constantly on, it gave the ground enough time to freeze – so, their entrenching tools were useless digging up icy and frozen mud. It was a lot colder with the clearer nights and less snow. Nelly was beginning to lose feeling in her feet and fingers. She always wiggled her toes, but it didn't seem to be working now.
Very suddenly, a shell burst into the trees.
"Incoming! Take cover!"
Another shell burst. Then another. And another.
Nelly ran for cover, all the while making sure her squad were safely inside their foxholes. And once all heads were down, she dove into a random foxhole. Strangely enough, she landed in Al Vittore's foxhole, but he was curled up into a ball and didn't notice Nelly. Vittore was shaking, flinching with every shell burst.
Nelly ducked her head, her hands firmly placed over her helmet. It was a waiting game now – that's all they could do, just wait it out. Nelly's legs jerked out and she whined. She must have kicked Vittore because he wrapped his arms around her legs, keeping them still.
Their line received blow after blow. It was bad – it was hell. And though the barrages were short, it felt like it went on for hours.
When that shelling ended, the silence was deafening. No one screamed for a medic. It was very chilling to hear nothing but silence. As Sergeant now, Nelly had to collect herself quickly. Taking hold of her rifle, she peered over the edge of the foxhole and scanned the immediate area. For a moment, she felt like the only survivor because no one had raised their heads yet. But then she saw Jackson – staring back at her. And soon, Ed's head poked up next to Jackson. Eyes moving, Nelly didn't fully relax until she saw Malarkey.
Climbing out of the foxhole, she stayed low and ran toward Malarkey. Jumping into his foxhole, they both sat down and looked at each other – making sure they were okay. Not seeing blood or any cuts, the two friends gave a nod.
"We should…prepare for infantry?" Nelly asked him quietly.
"Not yet". Malarkey said, "They might hit us again – they always do it twice".
"Right". Nelly said – with a somewhat serious look.
Setting her a soft smile, Malarkey assured her, "It'll never be as bad as last time".
"Yeah". She mumbled, "You're right".
After five or so minutes of waiting – more shells didn't come and neither did an infantry attack. Men got out of their foxholes and saw the damage to the trees around them. But luckily, no one got hit – no one from 2nd Platoon got hit, anyway. To keep the men focused, Nelly had them continue with their foxholes. It wasn't dark yet and the sky was beginning to clear. The light snow shower stopped, and the clouds parted. A small ray of sunshine poked through and shone a strip down onto the frozen snow inside the woods. Nelly saw that as a good sign – she hoped the sun would melt some of the ice. But even still, it was freezing.
Bringing out her jump knife, Nelly stood on a large rock to hack a branch off a tree. The noise was loud, she didn't hear approaching footsteps. She didn't even hear a voice call her name – not at first anyway. It was only when she took a short break, did she hear Lipton's voice. Nelly gave her knife a tug and pulled it off the branch before jumping down from the rock.
"Hello, Lip". She greeted.
"Let me hold that for a second". Lipton offered.
Frowning, she looked at her jump knife and then back at Lipton. "Why?"
"Just…for a second, please?"
Still not sure why - Nelly complied and handed Lipton her knife.
"Thanks, bud". Tightly holding onto the knife, he hid it behind his back.
For some reason, Nelly thought it was like in Holland – when Lipton told her they were heading off the line and going to Mourmelon. "Are we…leaving, Lip?" She asked, hopefully.
Lipton didn't answer. He told her instead, "Why don't you sit down, Nelly".
The frown was back on her face. "No". Nelly said quietly.
His eyes looked toward the ground – just for a second – and then Lipton looked down at Nelly. And his eyes appeared heavy and sad. Nelly's insides turned cold at the look on Lipton's face – she knew something bad had happened but how bad? A missing limb? Another breakdown?
In a quiet voice, Lipton told her, "Alex and Skip…".
Nelly's eyebrows twitched. "What?" She asked.
Lipton exhaled shakily. "Their foxhole…it took a direct hit".
No. No, he's lying – a voice told her, and Nelly trusted that voice. "We'll see". She said to Lipton – almost sounding angry and accusing. And she brushed passed, Lipton.
"Nelly!" Lipton called after her.
"We'll see!" She called back.
Walking wasn't quick enough, Nelly had to run.
He was lying. He had to have been. Foxholes didn't take direct hits. Alex and Skip were both fine – it didn't make any sense. Nelly ran right by her Platoon, failing to notice red eyes and tearful faces. She didn't hear small sobs, sniffles and cries. A part of her mind was trying to assure Nelly, that Lipton was lying to her – even if it wasn't in his character to lie, she still convinced herself.
Running into 1st Platoon like a charging horse, Nelly found a few men gathered around a foxhole – their foxhole. Pushing past them, she looked down and wished she hadn't. Nothing but pieces of blankets and some bloody parts of flesh – that was all that was left of Skip and Alex. The men around sent worried and tearful looks down upon Nelly. But she didn't notice. She was blind – blinded by explosive rage.
Nelly dropped her rifle into the foxhole. "You…". She muttered while unfastening the strap under her chin. "Fucking…". Taking off her helmet, she tossed it onto the ground. Very sharply, she spun around and sent daggers at the trees. She could scream all she wanted in the woods; the enemy would never hear her. So, Nelly ran forty-five yards toward the outposts and then ran beyond them and onto the open field.
She stopped. And stared at Foy.
And she screamed, "You killed him!" Her voice roared as loudly as a shell. "You killed them! You killed them!" Nelly continued, "You fucking bastards, you killed him!"
Nelly's hands pressed against her aching chest.
"Just get me!" Her screams tore at her throat painfully. "Just hit me -for fuck sake! I can't do it – I can't – "
"Murray!"
Rushing footsteps approached Nelly and tackled her to the ground. But she continued to scream into the snow. "I can't do it anymore – I won't do it!" Her body withered around under the arms holding her down. She was determined to get up and expose herself to enemy fire - either that, or she wanted to charge into Foy and kill the enemy with her bare hands.
But they wouldn't let Nelly do either of those things.
Nelly's rage turned to the men holding her down. "Get…fucking off me!"
"You ain't doing nothing stupid, you hear?" Came Bull's firm voice.
"Just – fuck off!"
"Let's get her back". Christenson said, "I'll carry her – let's just go, Bull".
"You're 'gonna have to chain this girl down – she's only 'gonna run back".
"We'll stop her". Christenson said.
Grabbing her around the waist, Christenson rose to his feet and carried Nelly. Her legs were kicking out wildly. And she continued to scream at the enemy – at the men trying to help her – she screamed at everyone and everything. But soon, her screams grew hoarse. And her already exhausted body went limp in Christenson's hold. She still let out a few whines and groans but nothing loud. Nelly had created the biggest scene in the history of Easy Company.
But she didn't care.
Christenson set Nelly down on her feet. "Are you 'gonna do that again?"
She didn't reply.
In her head, Nelly heard music – the song she had her first dance with Alex in Swindon. She looked over her shoulder, half expecting to find Alex and Skip sitting in their foxhole. But they still weren't there. They wouldn't appear like magic – magic wasn't real. This was her reality now.
It was her reality if she wanted it to be.
A future without Alex – it didn't seem possible. He was her first friend, her first love. And now, she had to go on without him. How?
The anger left and all she felt now was a numbness. She wasn't aware of anything. Everything around her appeared obscure and different with him gone. There was a hand on her shoulder, and it was pulling her away from the foxhole. Nelly's legs moved without her permission. She just blindingly followed someone – not knowing who it was but knowing it was someone who cared.
It was like sleepwalking, minus the terror.
Now, she just felt numb.
And tired.
Her legs stopped – she halted. Eyes barely open, Nelly stared at a tree.
Then, she was picked up – they were carrying her now, like a child. Legs loosely around a waist, her cheek pressed against a shoulder. The hands that carried her, secured Nelly. And the boots crunched against frozen snow. Nelly could see the footprints he left behind.
She carried through 2nd Platoon. Nelly saw teary eyes staring her way.
Men sobbed into their hands.
They were all crying because Skip and Alex were gone.
Gone. "Dead". Nelly whispered.
"Shh…". Winters was carrying her.
Dead.
...
Dead was a bold word. In Crossgates, they said, "deed". In Easy, they said dead, hit or blown-up – it all meant the same, it made no difference how they said it. There was never a nice way to say someone had died. Because no matter what word was used, it still had the same effect. Anger, numbness, pain and crying. The pain went both ways. It was physically painful to lose someone, and it pained the soul. It was overwhelming and hard to comprehend. Because one minute they were there and the next, they're gone. Like a vanishing act. Skip and Alex disappeared entirely.
Winters carried Nelly all the way to his CP, and he sat her down in a chair, under the canopy. A blanket was placed over her shoulders. As far as she was aware, she wasn't shaking. But Nelly didn't shrug the blanket off – her body felt too heavy to do that – however, she didn't grab it for warmth. She just sat there, staring blankly at the table.
"…Yeah, we've got her…". Winters was talking on the phone. "She's not screaming anymore".
There was a short pause.
"Come by tomorrow. I'll keep her here tonight". The call ended and Winters set the receiver down with a tiny sigh. Taking his helmet off, he set it on the table and then faced the girl on the chair. "That was your cousin". Winters kept his voice gentle. "He's 'gonna come by and see you tomorrow".
Tomorrow? What about now? Did the world have to keep going? Nelly wanted the world to stop because Alex and Skip were dead. It couldn't keep turning – tomorrow couldn't happen.
How could life possibly go on now?
Of course, she didn't tell Winters any of that. She didn't tell him anything. She didn't even nod. It was like her mind had gone and just left an empty shell of a body behind.
Winters crouched beside Nelly and took in her empty stare. He was reminded of Buck. Maybe it was time, she left the line completely. He couldn't keep her on the line and if she was like this – that would have been cruel. Plus, Nelly was screaming for the enemy to kill her – Winters feared her troubles ran a lot deeper than he once thought.
"Dick?" Standing in front of the canopy, Nixon called Winters over quietly.
Casting one more glance at Nelly, Winters stood up and walked over to Nixon. "Yeah?"
With a small shudder, Nelly blinked and broke out of her daze. Shrugging the blanket off her shoulders, it fell to the ground behind the chair. She wiggled her toes. And aimlessly, Nelly's frozen fingers untied one of her boot laces.
"…I already spoke to him". Winters was telling Nixon, "He said no".
Nelly's hands rubbed her socked feet for a few moments. And then her eyes caught sight of a piece of film roll poking out of the sole of her boot. Picking her boot up, Nelly easily pulled back the sole and reached in for the roll of negative.
"That's too bad". Nixon said to Winters, "I just saw him…he's staring at nothing, Dick".
Winters sighed. "I can't force Malarkey off the line, Nix".
As Nelly tucked the roll of negatives back inside her sole, her fingers soon grasped something else.
"…I tried talking to him". Nixon said, "But all I got was a 'hey, sir', and then nothing".
"I'll try again tomorrow". Winters decided. "Maybe he'll change his mind".
"Good idea".
Nelly held the capsule of cyanide toward her face – it was so tiny but deadly. Once her teeth crunched down on the capsule, she'd die within seconds. It would hurt for a second. And then she'd feel nothing. Easy. No more cold. No more memories. No more suffering.
1985 – a voice in her mind tried to remind her.
But 1985 couldn't happen anymore. Because the way she envisioned it, Alex and Skip were both there. Both of them were present in the living room Nelly had imagined. She was going to dance with Alex to Glenn Miller. Skip was going to poke fun at Malarkey.
They were supposed to see the desert. Go horseback riding in Central Park.
Nelly was supposed to marry Alex.
"…you did what you could". Nixon said to Winters quietly. "They've got Lipton.
"2nd Platoon have lost the most, Nix". Winters mumbled. "If Malarkey stays, he'll have to lead them – like an Officer".
"Do you think they'll be ready?"
"For what?"
Nixon sent him a knowing stare. "The attack on Foy, Dick. It's 'gonna happen one day".
"They might not pick us". Winters said, "They might pick another Battalion".
Nixon snorted. "Right…".
She loved Alex and didn't know how to live a life without him by her side. Because life without Alex was a life not worth living. He was the first to lovingly take her by the hand. He taught her how to be human again after being imprisoned in Mauthausen. Alex explained, he was patient and he showed her what it was, to be loved and to love in return.
If it wasn't for Alex, Nelly would have never opened her heart to others.
And she'd miss him forever.
Shoving her boot back on, Nelly set the capsule on the ground and stomped on it.
Malarkey – she couldn't do that to Malarkey.
Nelly had to carry on.