Hello everybody! So, I survived the last exam of the semester. French grammar, brrr... I wonder what possessed me to pick that course. Well, the exam went okayish, I guess? My reactions to the questions ranged from "easy, no problem" to "fuuuuck", so it's hard to say...
On another note: There won't be an update next week because I'll be on holiday :) But I can post another chapter this Sunday if you like.
Lieutenant Winters sighed as he read through the updated company roster. Nixon was reading over his shoulder while Welsh was peering at the document from the side. Across from them, officers from Dog and Fox Company were mirroring them, going over their own lists of names.
Throughout D-Day plus one, soldiers had made their way to HQ and their companies, all of them glad to be back among friends. Unfortunately, they also brought reports of casualties. And there were many of them. To everyone's worry and consternation, the whereabouts of Lt Meehan, Easy's CO, were still unknown.
A sudden dull roar of cheers and hollers made the officers look up. It seemed as if another group of 'prodigal sons' had returned.
"Who is it?", Welsh wondered.
They didn't have to wait long to find out. Eventually, the crowd of soldiers that had gathered to greet the newcomers parted to reveal a group of four. Their faces were smudged with dirt and the remnants of camouflage paint and they looked exhausted, but there were smiles on their faces as the four headed towards the officers.
"That's Leelan and MacDowell in the back", said First Lieutenant John Kelly from Dog Company, recognising two of the figures as men from his platoon.
First Lieutenant Thomas Rhodes allowed himself a small smile as he recognised one of them as a member of Fox Company. "I'll be damned", he muttered, sounding utterly pleased. "Audrey Maynard."
"And Frances Shea", Nixon identified the last member of the little unit, happy to see another of Easy's women alive and well.
.
The four came to a stop in front of the officers and saluted, reporting for duty before dropping the formality and exchanging greetings.
"Good to see you, sirs", Frances said with a tired, but sincere grin as she shook Welsh's hand.
"And you, Shea", Winters replied.
She nodded. "Thanks." Then, she turned serious, the smile fading from her eyes. Addressing Winters, she spoke: "Sir, Irene, uh, Sergeant McKinsey was killed. She...was shot down on the jump."
Frances shuddered unconsciously as the memory rose before her inner eye. She hadn't seen it clearly – and was actually quite glad about it – but the sounds were still echoing in her ears. It was almost as if somebody had turned down the volume on the noise of the battle because she had heard it so clearly.
The first bullet hitting Irene's body. Her cry of pain. A volley shredding her chute. The aborted scream when she tried to keep quiet.
And then the horrible, horrible silence after she'd disappeared from view.
.
"Thank you, Frances." The kind, sombre voice of her platoon leader pulled her from her thoughts. "Go join your squad", he added.
She nodded, offering a small smile. "Yes sir."
Watching her go, Nixon muttered: "So...that leaves four unaccounted for." He tallied them up on his fingers. "Arricante, Griffith, Preston and Vaughn."
Welsh gave an agreeing hum and a distracted nod.
Winters remained silent, pensive gaze following the nimble-fingered young woman walking towards her squad.
A small group of Easy Company soldiers trekked through hedge-lined fields, steadily heading towards the town where their company was said to be. The drop had been a disaster, scattering them all over the goddamn French countryside, forcing them to band together in small groups. They'd fought the Nazis in several skirmishes, all the while keeping their ears open for any rumours on the whereabouts of their company. Talbert, Shifty and Smokey had finally got some reliable intel from a radio op from the 502nd and quickly decided to head out and find Easy. They had all been in the same stick and landed together in a stroke of luck.
While none of them mentioned it, they all feared that the rest of the company had been wiped out. Walking past smouldering wreckage of the C-47s that had carried them didn't help assuage the worry of the planes being shot down, screaming towards the unforgiving ground and going up in a ball of flame before anybody had a chance to get out. So when they saw Private Blithe in the clearing, next to another still-burning pile of scrap that had once been an aircraft, it was a relief.
That relief soon morphed into a sinking feeling of confusion when Blithe didn't react to Talbert calling his name. Instead, the blond private continued to look up to the sun, a distant, dazed expression on his face.
"Blithe", Smokey repeated, putting a touch more force into his voice.
Slowly, the blond turned and came walking over to them, squinting against the glare of the sun.
Tab gave him a smile, greeting him with an affable "Thought that was you." Studying him, he asked: "You alone?"
He nodded. "You're the first friendly faces I've seen."
"I ain't surprised", Smokey chimed in, carrying his machine gun over the shoulder. "They dropped us all over the goddamn peninsula."
Now a group of four, they continued onwards. They still had a lot of ground to cover and it wouldn't do to dawdle in enemy territory.
.
After barely thirty minutes of walking, though, they stopped again when Shifty pointed to a crouched figure up ahead and declared with absolute certainty: "That's one of ours."
No-one questioned him since it was well-known that he had an extraordinarily keen eye. They headed towards the figure, glad to see another of their company, or at least their battalion. The trooper must have heard their approach since he got to his feet and came to meet them halfway.
"Doc?", Smokey asked in joyful surprise.
It was indeed one of their medics, the youngest at that.
"Hey Doc", Tab said with a smile before noticing the blood staining her ODs and inquiring: "You okay?"
Mia returned the smile, replying: "Hello guys, I'm happy to see you. It's not mine, Talbert, thank you."
Talbert repeated the question he had already asked Blithe, curiosity mixing with worry. "Were you alone all this time?"
The men were duly impressed when Mia nodded. Surviving on one's own behind enemy lines for two days was no small feat and the fact that she'd done it without any weapons made it even more admirable.
Smokey clapped her on the shoulder. "C'mon, we're gonna find Easy."
.
It took them a good portion of the day, but finally, they reached their unit's location in the afternoon.
"Well, look who decided to show up, Floyd!", the good-natured call rang out.
Talbert smiled and shook Luz' hand. "I thought we'd never find you guys", he said, relief banishing the coil of fear that had taken up residence in chest as he let his eyes sweep over the assembled men.
Leaning her back against the solid stone of a war memorial, Theresa watched with a smile as the guys showed off their loot. As the returnees moved closer, something else caught her eye. A beaming grin split her face when she saw who was lingering on the side-lines, watching the guys flocking to the newcomers with a relieved and content expression.
"Thank you, God", Theresa mumbled before reaching out and giving Louise and Catherine a nudge. "Hey, look. Mia's back!"
A blonde and a light brown head swivelled around and two pairs of eyes widened, overjoyed grins spreading on their lips. A look passed between the three women, silent communication taking place in a second. Then, they surged to their feet as one.
Easily hopping over the chain cordoning off the memorial, they rushed towards their friend, tackling her in a big four-way hug. The men traded grins and glances at the exuberant reunion, all glad to see that another of their women had found her way back into the fold.
.
Mia jumped when out of nowhere, several pairs of arms wrapped around her and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. After the briefest moment of panic, she relaxed into the embrace, a laugh bubbling up in her chest.
"Hi girls", she said when they pulled back to look at her, not letting go completely. "It's nice to see known faces again."
"It's great to see you", Louise offered, giving her shoulder a squeeze. Theresa and Catherine vigorously voiced their agreements.
Even in the excitement, Catherine didn't miss the blood splattering her fellow medic's clothes. And Mia didn't miss her friend's eyes zeroing in on the reddish-brown stains.
She gave her a small smile and reassured her: "It's not my blood, Mom. I'm not hurt."
The Hawaiian nodded in acceptance. "I'm glad to hear that."
They continued to chat, Theresa and Louise bringing Mia up to speed on the events of the past few days, what the company had been up to, Catherine informing her about how the medics were faring and Mia, in turn, starting to tell them about what had happened to her since the jump.
.
"Easy Company!", the shout went up, cutting the half-German's recount short. "On the road!"
Heaving themselves onto their feet, the riflewomen and medics grabbed their gear, chuckling when they heard Maxine mobilising her squad with the words "C'mon boys, are you waiting for written invitations?"
"Let's go, First platoon!", Lieutenant Welsh's voice called, his fellow platoon leaders and the respective platoon sergeants also spurring the men into action.
Mia picked up her helmet. "With which platoon am I?", she asked Catherine, swiping a few strands of dirt-crusted short hair from her eyes. "Third?"
"Nah, Pepping got 'em", her friend replied. "Guess it depends on which platoon's the biggest, since there's four of us now."
Since their current ranking medic, Mampre, had been unable to make the jump, they had tacitly decided that because Catherine already had experience with the position, she should be in charge until either Mampre returned or the officers appointed somebody else.
.
Sending Mia off to join Gene in second platoon, Catherine then headed over to where first platoon was gathering to hear their lieutenant's orders.
She gave Luz a knowing smile when the radioman scuttled to stand next to her after having hurriedly stopped Mia to smother her in a hug and plant a smacking kiss onto her cheek. The young woman had blushed a deep scarlet, a bashful little smile on her lips.
He simply grinned back before turning his attention to Welsh, who called them to order.
"It'll be dark soon, I want light and noise discipline from here on", the gap-toothed Irishman said, projecting his voice clearly so that everyone heard him. "No talking, no smoking and no playing 'grab fanny' with the man in front of you, Luz." He shot the man in question a serious look although the corners of his mouth betrayed his own amusement.
Boyle asked: "So where we headed to, Lieutenant, hm?"
"We're taking Carentan."
"That sounds like fun", someone - possibly Hoobler - commented dryly, tone somewhere in the middle between joking and bitching.
Welsh slung a satchel over his shoulder and continued: "It's the only place where armour from Omaha and Utah Beach can link up and head inland. Until we take Carentan, they're stuck on the sand. General Taylor's sending the whole division."
Luz huffed a derisive snort and, smirk on his face, drawled in said man's voice: "Remember boys, give me three days and three nights of hard fighting, and you will be relieved." Just like all of his imitations, it was spot on, the put-on accent eliciting some chuckles and agreeing mutters.
.
Hoobler volunteered to take point.
"Corporal Hoobler will be lead scout", Welsh approved. Then, his gaze fell on Blithe and he addressed him, saying: "Glad you could join us."
The dreamy, shy blond nodded, mumbling a soft "Thank you, sir."
Returning to business, Welsh got them moving.
"First platoon, fall in behind Fox Company. You people from second and third platoon, follow us. Shake a leg."
.
"Another thing to remember, boys", General Taylor's voice piped up once more as they began to move out. "Flies spread disease, so keep yours closed."
Amidst the snickers rippling through them, the fondly exasperated voice of the lieutenant could be heard telling their jokester radioman to shut up.
Their path lead through the flooded fields, leaving them to meander along the banks, carefully following in the steps of the person in front. Night fell around them and only the flickering glow of still-burning skeletons of destroyed vehicles illuminated their surroundings. Nobody flinched at the distant gunshots, all too accustomed to the sound already.
Suppressed coughs whispered on the heated breeze caused by the crackling fires. The smoke made their eyes water and their throats ache.
.
Jessica grimaced when she had to step over a corpse that had frozen in a horridly contorted position, one hand clawing at empty air in what could only have been an agonising death. Poor sap, she thought before shoving the image from her mind.
When they stopped, she managed to keep her irritation in check enough to only roll her eyes. Walking at the front of the line, in front of Perconte, she didn't have to strain her hearing to catch Hoobler's muttered "We lost F company, sir" or Welsh's frustrated response.
"Again?!", he asked, annoyance mixing with incredulity.
Jessica managed to swallow back a groan. Just great. They were stopped for the what felt like the tenth time in the six hours they had been walking.
As Perconte approached and silently questioned with a jerk of his head what the hold-up was, Hoobler quietly informed him that they had lost their sister company. The Italian radioman's reaction was identical to their Irish lieutenant's. "Again?!"
As he turned to tell Blithe and Skinny behind him the news, Welsh returned from where he had been trying to locate Fox company and spoke in an undertone: "Perconte, Helak, go back and pass the word to hold up."
"Yes sir", they acknowledged, moving to comply.
.
"Why'd we stop, Jess?", Maxine whispered when she saw her friend heading down the line.
"We lost F company", came the dry, unimpressed reply.
The Staff Sergeant raised her eyes heavenwards as if praying for strength. "Again?" She shook her head, Jessica recognising the frustration in the movement.
"I know", she commiserated. "It's getting ridiculous."
"Mhm."
They were wasting time out here while the scouts had to relocate Fox, whose officers had evidently foisted off all night exercises onto their NCOs. They would reach an obstacle that hindered troop movement and forced the men to go through one at a time, and as soon as the last person was through, they would rush ahead to make up for lost time.
Which in reality just ended up slowing everyone down.
Every time F company left them behind, Easy had to stop and dig in, which led to a lot of bitching. They had to send out scouts to find F company and tell them to wait, which led to disgruntled scouts who were constantly in danger of stumbling across Germans who might take advantage of the gap in their line to slip through. F company would then complain about how Easy was too slow and should do a better job at keeping up, which put everyone in an even worse mood.
.
When word came down the line that they'd found Fox company again, Ana María couldn't help but wonder how long it would take until the incompetent palurdos raced off again. Blowing out a sigh, she got up from where she had been crouched in the mud, adjusted the radio she was carrying on her back and started walking again.