Hello everyone! Sorry for not updating yesterday, but I got maybe an hour of sleep on the flight home from New York and the jetlag really hit me hard, so I was too tired for pretty much anything more than watching tv and sifting through some emails etc.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's kinda short, but I really had fun writing it. Let me know what you think :)
Frances lounged in the sun, head pillowed on her musette bag, listening to the chatter of her friends from first and second platoon. She was idly shuffling through a deck of cards, spinning and flipping the individual cards lazily. Her fingers were so familiar with the motions that they practically moved on their own. The voices of her friends a constantly swelling and dipping buzz in the background, Frances simply enjoyed the respite.
"Hey Shea", called the inimitable voice of the one and only Bill Guarnere. "Is it true?"
She slowly looked over to him, arching an eyebrow. "Is what true?", she asked back.
"The rumours."
Playfully rolling her eyes, Frances heaved a dramatic sigh and sat up. "Gonna be a bit more specific, Gonorrhoea?" She shot him a lopsided smile, gesturing with her free hand. "This is the Army, there's tons of rumours flying around."
Johnny Martin snorted and elaborated: "Rumour has it you took out a bunch of Krauts on D-Day with one bullet and a shoelace."
Frances blinked at him before bursting into peals of laughter. "That's probably the best version I've heard ever", she giggled, transferring her cards to the other hand to wipe tears from the corners of her eyes. "A bullet and a shoelace." She shook her head.
"Well, what happened then?", Ramirez questioned. "Cause some guys from Dog Company are pretty sure that you can do real magic."
The woman's eyebrows rose towards her hairline, confusion mixing with disbelief before she chuckled again. "Alright, I'll tell you, but you gotta promise not to tell anyone else", she bargained, eyes dancing with mischief. "I can't wait to find out what ridiculous stories people come up with."
The small cluster of men leant forward, eager to hear the story.
.
"Okay, so after I landed and got the hell out of dodge, I bumped into Audrey Maynard. She, uh, she's a machine gunner in Fox Company. Anyway, we figured out where we were and started walking. On the way, we picked up two guys from Dog, Leelan and McDowell.
As it happens, we ended up in a bit of a skirmish with some Krauts. There were around twenty of them and only four of us. They tried to surround us and were doing a pretty decent job backing us into a corner. We needed a distraction to make a clean get-away, so I thought a smoke bomb would come in handy. Naturally, none of us had their smoke grenades, so I had to build one."
"You built a smoke bomb?", Bull asked, his Arkansas drawl tinged with surprise and admiration.
Frances smiled, offering a light shrug. "Well, my uncle taught me all sorts of tricks", she allowed, "and it's really simple."
Johnny Martin gave her one of his patented looks and snarked: "That's easy for you to say."
"C'mon, don't leave us hanging", Ramirez complained, giving her a nudge. "Tell us the rest!"
She laughed. "Alright alright, keep your shirt on!", she placated, letting a card dance along her fingers. "I sacrificed one of my rations – no big loss there – cause I needed a container. Then, I dumped in a few sugar packets and some soap shavings. Dropped a match inside and tossed the thing off into the bushes. The Krauts thought we were in the smoke, fired that way, we ran for it and they didn't notice a thing."
Bill started cackling and clapped her on the shoulder. "This here, gentlemen", he stated, "is a goddamn genius. Sugar and soap? So much better than a bullet and shoelaces."
"Oh shut up", Frances said, flicking a card at him, making them snicker as it bounced off his nose. "I'm no genius, I just know some street magic."
.
"On your feet, second platoon!" The call rang through the air, drawing a smattering of sighs and grumbles from the soldiers.
"C'mon, guys, that means you too", came the voice of Maxine from behind their little cluster. They got to their feet and began collecting their gear, reluctant to give up their comfy positions.
Johnny studied the Staff Sergeant with narrowed eyes, frowning deeply. "Aren't you supposed to be at the aid station?", he questioned.
She chuckled and shook her head, her even gaze travelling to him. "I just got my bell rung, that hasn't stopped me before", she said, mixing humour and reassurance in her tone. "I have a hard head. Besides, do you honestly think that the Docs would have let me leave?"
Her question was answered by several negatives. The medics were accustomed to dealing with stubborn and unreasonable patients and it was common knowledge by now to never argue too much with a medic because a) they definitely had more staying power and b) pissing them off was among the stupidest things one could do.
.
While the NCOs mobilised their squads and the medics handled the last evacs before getting ready to move out, Louise and her spotter, Ryan Gambrill, shook hands. Gambrill was expected back at battalion headquarters and Louise was being attached to Second Platoon until the next sniper mission came around.
"Well", the stocky sergeant with the freckled face said, "it's been a pleasure, Fields."
Louise nodded her thanks. "Likewise. Shame, really, you're a swell fellow to work with."
Gambrill laughed and shrugged: "Who knows, maybe I'll volunteer next time a sniper mission pops up?"
"Well, I wouldn't mind that", the Brit responded with a teasing grin.
"Alright, pack up your gear, put out your smokes!", Lieutenant Compton called, his voice easily carrying across the square where Second Platoon was milling about. "Let's move out!"
His orders were echoed by his fellow platoon leaders, who were rallying their men.
Hours later, they were walking across another field, one that miraculously wasn't flooded.
"Bet Mia would've preferred to land in this one, huh, Reese?", Jessica mentioned to her squad leader, a smile on her lips that was just a bit too wide to be innocent.
"Really", Theresa returned, deadpan. "How do you figure?"
The blonde Marylander grinned. "Oh, only 'cause word has it she ended up smack-dab in the middle of a flooded field on D-Day", she answered cheerfully.
Theresa looked at her, tired exasperation filtering through the cracks of her unimpressed expression. "Why do you do that?"
"Do what?", Jessica asked, smile crumbling into puzzlement.
"Make fun of Mia. You always mock her."
The private frowned. "Oh lighten up, Reese. It's just fun", she said.
"Do you see me laughing?", Theresa questioned. "Or more importantly: Do you see Mia laughing?"
The crease between Jessica's eyebrows deepened along with consternation. "She never complains about it", she defended herself, a touch of indignation entering her voice. "And she usually smiles whenever we 'mock' her." Her fingers raised to make quotation marks in the air.
Shaking her head, Theresa asked bluntly: "Did it ever occur to you that maybe Mia smiles because any other reaction would only give you more ammo?" Not waiting for a response, she gave her friend another look before lengthening her stride to walk with Luz and Perconte. "By the way", she added as a parting shot, "It wasn't Mia who dropped into a flooded field. It was me."
.
Further back, Ana María was walking next to Pepping, listening with quiet amusement to him griping about the infernal drizzle that was soaking them to the bone. Of Easy's medics, Pepping certainly was one of the more outspoken characters who expressed his displeasure by grumbling and scowling surly.
The Puerto Rican's good mood evaporated like a puff of smoke when machine gun fire cut through the air, followed by the howling whine of artillery.
She dropped along with the rest of Easy, ignoring the cold wet feeling of mud seeping into her ODs, and started crawling towards the hedgerows ahead, noting that Pepping had bounced up from the ground as soon as the first cry for a medic went up.
Crazy people, those medics, she thought to herself. Up and running when everyone else stays down.