Hello everyone and Happy New Year! I hope you're all doing well.
I survived my end-of-year concert (It went really well and we had fun) and have had surprisingly relaxing Christmas holidays so far. I started with exam prep today, but since I only have two exams, it's not that big of a deal. Especially not compared to second semester, where I had a whooping 14 exams over a course of 8 days. Definitely not my idea of fun...
Anyways, enough ramblings from me. I hope you enjoy the chapter. It was a tricky one to write and I haven't decided yet whether I'm happy with it or not.
Apart from the rattling and rumbling of the aircraft, which drowned out a lot of other noises, the inside of the plane was eerily silent. Catherine shifted and flexed her toes inside her jump boots. Between the tight webbing and the pack of the reserve chute on her lap, her left leg was starting to fall asleep.
She was scared. At first, she'd been able to distract herself, but when darkness had settled over them, her mind had inevitably turned to what lay ahead. And then to what she'd left behind.
Tommy, her bright little boy, would be turning six years old in two weeks. He would start elementary school in fall. And Gwen, now already eight years old, was bursting with pride for her baby brother. He can read already, she had written in one of her letters, her blocky letters still uneven, but improving. And Daddy and I taught him to tell time.
Catherine's smile at the thought didn't make it onto her face. Thunder cracked in the distance, barely audible over the noise of the plane. She didn't pay it any heed, mind still focused on her family. She could just picture them, her kids splashing in the shallows on the beach, Roger teaching them how to float and swim.
Roger.
The thought made her heart twinge with longing. Her dear husband, who had encouraged her to enlist after he'd been declared 4F. Her best friend, whose happy-go-lucky personality had immediately taken her in when they had first met. Her partner in crime, with whom she'd gone through thick and thin.
.
The distant thunder was closer now and definitely not thunder. It was the booming of anti-aircraft batteries that tore up the night with their salves. The planes broke through the thick clouds and suddenly, the sky was alight with a lightning storm of gunfire, explosions and the blinding streaks of tracer ammunition.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Kathleen tried to focus on something other than the buzzing tingle of nerves under her skin.
The red light flashed on next to the doorway. In the dim, flickering lighting, she could just make out her jump master's signal to get ready. With her heart pounding at the base of her throat, she got to her feet along with the rest of her stick, hooking herself to the central line. Her hands, much to her surprise, weren't trembling.
"Equipment check!", she heard the jump master shout.
Reaching out, she checked the straps of the person in front of her. She felt her way along the belts and knots before making sure her own webbing was cinched tightly.
Kathleen didn't hear the command to sound off for equipment check, but when the man behind her gave her a firm clap on the shoulder and bellowed: "Six okay!", she simply continued the line.
"Four okay!", she heard Ana María call in front of her.
The plane bounced and jostled, unexpectedly banking left at one point, making a few of them lose their balance. Kathleen didn't have time to worry about their aircraft being hit because their line began moving forward. She was out the door and plummeting earthwards when a round from the Ack-Acks took out one of the plane's engines.
.
Kathleen was genuinely surprised when her boots hit the ground and she absorbed the shook. With the amount of munition flying through the air, the disorienting flashes of explosions and tracers, the deafening noise of the battle, she honestly hadn't expected to survive the drop.
Dazedly getting onto all fours, she shook her head. Get a hold of yourself!
Quickly taking stock, she determined that her leg bag was a lost cause after not seeing it anywhere in her vicinity. Grabbing her rifle and checking the magazine, she gathered her remaining equipment and moved out, intent on finding better cover before trying to orientate herself.
Crouched in a thicket, Jessica was squinting at the tiny compass in her hand, using her body to hide the sparse light of her zippo. Her heart was hammering in her chest, the fear of having lost her way, of walking in the wrong direction gripping her throat. Upon her landing, she'd looked around and realised with a jolt of terror that she didn't recognise anything. There had been no prominent landmarks, only grass, bushes and the outskirts of the forest she was now currently in.
Where the fuck am I?, she wondered before modifying it to Where the fuck is everyone else?
Her question was soon answered when some twigs rustled a few paces away from her hiding place. Jessica fished out her cricket and gave two clicks, holding her breath as she listened for a response.
Click-click. Click-clack.
Frowning, she readied her trench knife and uttered the prompting phrase: "Flash." Something had sounded off about those clicks, but she couldn't quite place it.
"Thunder", came the hissed reply and Jessica could breathe a little easier. She got up to reveal herself, lowering her weapon.
"Jess?", a familiar voice asked.
She blinked. "Max?", she questioned, not entirely sure. "That you?"
.
Steps approached and in the dark, she could just barely make out the outline of Maxine's face, her features blurred and masked by the grease paint.
"Yes, it's me", the Staff Sergeant confirmed, white teeth flashing in a brief smile. "You alright?"
"Fine. Any idea where we are?"
Much to Jessica's relief, her friend nodded. "Some."
They started walking in the direction Maxine indicated, mindful to keep sounds to a minimum.
"I take it you lost your leg bag", the Washingtonian muttered, referring to Jessica's obvious lack of weapons and equipment.
She scoffed. "Piece of shit got ripped off in the prop blast."
Maxine offered an inarticulate hum before adding frankly: "You'll find a gun soon enough."
Pale morning light dawned over Normandy, the sun indiscriminately washing over Germans and Allies, lush fields and smouldering wreckage, corpses and living people alike. It also shone down on the lone figure that was heading up the road towards the assembly point of the 506th PIR's 2nd Battalion.
Sharp eyes glinting over cheeks smeared with dark camouflage paint, Louise scanned her surroundings and didn't let her guard down even after she'd passed the manned checkpoint. She was on alert, relaxing her grip on her rifle only when she saw a group of soldiers sitting by the roadside.
The Brit pushed her helmet back, gaze flitting over the men, trying to spot some familiar faces. She stepped around the carcasses of dead animals that were used as a barricade and ignored the blood running down the gutters and staining her boots.
Approaching a few men from their sister company, Louise asked for directions to the temporary CP.
"Up ahead", one of them said, pointing down the road. "By the farm. You can't miss it."
Nodding in thanks, the woman continued, the relatively relaxed postures of the people around her leading her to slinging her rifle over her shoulder.
.
Reaching the farm that the guys from Fox had described, she was met with a relieving sight. There were Lieutenants Winters and Compton along with probably a dozen or so of Easy's men. From the looks of it, they were preparing for an assignment.
"Just weapons and ammo, drop everything else!", she heard Winters call. "Got any spare ammo in a pack or musette bag, bring it along!"
"Dear me, you sure look busy", she announced her presence, plastering a grin she didn't feel onto her face. "Need any help?"
Several heads swivelled around, making her smile for real. She saluted the officers and greeted the guys, accepting their surprising hugs and friendly pats on the shoulder. Even Guarnere, whose foul mood was surrounding him like a dark cloud, gave her a nod and a smile.
.
Winters quickly filled her in on the situation. "We're going to take out a couple of 88s firing on Utah beach. We lay a base of fire, two squads of three make the main assault." He showed her the sketched map of the German battery, pointing out the four guns and the trenches connecting them. "I want you to set up a sniper position at a distance to the machine guns."
Louise nodded and quickly moved to drop all the excess gear, keeping her M-1 Garand and her musette bag and passing a pack of TNT to Lipton. As she got ready, Liebgott came over, a genuine tilt in his signature smirk.
"So, how was your jump?", he asked.
"A right mess", she replied with a roll of her eyes. "Missed the DZ, lost that stupid leg bag in the prop blast and landed right at the edge of a flooded field. But, it was alright, I s'pose. Least I wasn't too far off. Yours?"
Liebgott mirrored her expression, which told her all she needed to know. "Short. Met up with Plesha and Hendrix, came across Ranney a bit later", he relayed with a shrug.
"Alright, let's move!", Lipton called, breaking up their conversation.