As it turned out, Easy didn't return to France. A strange mix of relief and frustration in their guts, they went back to training. Until the next mission came around. They packed all their gear and were half-way into the planes when the jump was called off as Patton or one of the other Allies had already overrun the drop zone and gotten the job done. This unnerving cycle continued for weeks and soon, summer began to inch towards autumn and the 506 was still in England, hanging in limbo. Training continued, the replacements steadily improved under the Toccoa veterans' strict tutelage and the men and women enjoyed their limited free time as much as they could.

One evening, mail call came around and Vest handed out letters left and right. He could be heard hollering names all over camp, searching for the recipients of the stack of missives in his bag. "Sergeant Lloyd! There you go, ma'am."

"Thanks, Vest." Maxine accepted the small bundle of letters, reading the senders. One from her brother and sister. One from her mother. One from Warren. And one from her father. Her eyebrows rose slightly. Her father had expressed his disappointment early on in basic training and had refused to send any letter after they had shipped out to Europe, so seeing his handwriting on an envelope was a surprise.

She shrugged and set it aside, instead opening the one from her siblings first, curious to hear how they were doing and what they had been up to recently.

...

Quite a few heads turned a couple of minutes later when Maxine made a noise of anger at the back of her throat and swiftly tore up her father's letter. She didn't offer any explanation and ignored them in favour of the last remaining letter, the one from her fiancé.

Dearest Maxine

Already, red flags went up inside her mind. It was always 'my beloved Maxine' or 'my darling' or even just 'my dearest'. But never just 'dearest Maxine'.

I hope this letter finds you well. Penelope sends her best and wanted to thank you for your well-wishes. She and her newly wedded husband are very happy and marriage becomes her rather well, I would say.

You expressed concern for my well-being in your last letter as your mother had mentioned that I seemed troubled. Rest assured that I am in perfect health. But I was, and still am, indeed troubled, my darling. I have been restless and plagued by worries lately, worries about you.

Ah. Flat realisation spread in Maxine's chest. So that was where the wind was blowing from.

I spoke at length with your esteemed father at the annual Summer Ball and he shares my concerns. You have been gone for a long time, dear Maxine. I never claimed to understand your desire to join the Army, but I supported you because I wanted you to be happy. I confess, I thought and hoped that you would recognise that it is not a place for women, especially not for a beautiful lady like you. But in your letters, you spoke with so much pride and affection of your unit that I couldn't bring myself to ask you to return to me.

Hurt and indignation now pooled in her gut. Warren had just indulged her thinking that she'd come back as soon as the going got tough? Didn't he know her better than that? She frowned and returned to reading.

Even when you shipped out to Europe, off across the sea to fight in a war that shouldn't be your business, I kept my silence. Your mother advised me that you were driven by a desire to prove your worth and who would I be to deny you that? So I waited and prayed and spent many a restless night hoping that you were safe, that you'd soon return to me hale and hearty.

Maxine swallowed.

Now that you're back in England, away from the front lines, I had hoped that it would be enough. I had hoped you were satisfied, that you had seen and done enough. That you were ready to come home. And yet, you showed no such intention in your last letter. Darling, just like your father, I fear your sense of obligation has clouded your judgement. Please come home before harm befalls you. I am sure your comrades would understand.

Anger returned, the frown deepening. The nerve! The insolence!

And thus, you leave me no choice. I love you, Maxine, I love you so much that with every passing day, the longing of my heart gets more painful. So please, if you truly love me like I do and value the promise of our betrothal as much as I, please come back to me. I fear that a refusal on your part might put our future together in jeopardy and I would hate for it to come to that, my darling.

Please send your reply as soon as possible. I can't wait to see you again.

Always yours,

Warren

The laugh that bubbled in her chest was hysterical in nature. Maxine clamped down on it, incredulously rereading the passage to ensure that yes, she had read it correctly the first time. Warren Emerson junior, her beloved fiancé, was indeed issuing an ultimatum to her. Behind all the flowery words and poetic declarations of love, the message was unmistakable – come home or the wedding's off.

Blowing out a breath through her nose, the staff sergeant folded the letter and slid it back into its envelope, the movements carefully measured. Tucking the bundle of correspondence from her family into her jacket, she rose from the table.

...

On her way out of the mess hall, she passed Catherine, who smiled at her and began: "Oh hey, Max, I meant to talk to you about-"

"Not now, please", she said, fully conscious of the fact that she was being rude interrupting her friend like that.

The smile slid off the Hawaiian's features. "Are you alright?", she asked, concern darkening her brown eyes.

"I'd like to be alone, so just...leave me be for a while? I need some quiet."

Catherine's expression softened with gentle compassion. "Of course", she said, nodding slightly. "Let us know if you need something. You know where to find us."

"Thanks." Maxine slipped past her friend, who looked after her, lips pursed into a slight frown.

Reaching her billet, Maxine sat down to pen a response to her father's letter. She would reply to her siblings' and her mother's later, when she was less emotional. But her father would feel the full extent of her hurt and fury at being talked down to like she was just some pretty thing incapable of complex rational thought.

After composing a positively scathing letter to her father, she wrote to Warren. She apologised for causing him pain and thanked him for supporting her decision to join the Army. She expressed her disappointment at being given an ultimatum and regretfully informed him of her decision.

I love you very much, dear Warren, and if the circumstances hadn't been what they are, I am sure that we would already be married and lead a happy life together, she wrote. But we both know that neither of us can be truly happy with the status quo as it is now. Therefore, much as it pains me, I give you free. I love you, Warren, and I wish you all the best in the world.

Signing and blowing on the paper to dry the ink, Maxine leant back, her back against the wall of her billet. Dashing away a stray tear that had escaped her, she put the letters into her footlocker for the time being and took her engagement ring off the chain of her dog tags. After a long moment of contemplation, she slid the silver ring back onto the chain and tucked it back under her shirt.

Suddenly, the silence of the billet felt too close, almost claustrophobic. Wiping her cheeks again, she got to her feet. A walk would do her some good, burn off some of the restless energy itching in her veins.

...

She wandered aimlessly through the camp for nearly half an hour until she came across Mia and Lieutenant Speirs. The medic perched on the hood of a jeep, the officer leant against it. They didn't seem to be in conversation and as Maxine knew them both to be discrete and private, she walked over.

"Lieutenant", she greeted quietly. "Mia."

Speirs acknowledged her with a simple "Sergeant", Mia's "Hello" soft and accompanied by a small smile.

Maxine moved to sit next to her friend, heaving a sigh. Two gazes flew her way, one sharp, one curious, both discerning. But no questions were asked, for which she was grateful.

Instead, Mia offered her a cigarette and shrugged: "You look as if you need it" when Maxine looked at her in confusion.

"These can kill you, you know." But she accepted the proffered smoke nonetheless and took a drag, feeling a smile pull at the corner of her mouth when Mia chuckled quietly. It was strangely comfortable, sitting there with two people nobody would expect to see in one another's company.

Lieutenant Speirs' reputation preceded him, rumours of him killing prisoners and shooting a sergeant of his own platoon circulating among the men. He wore intimidation like a second skin, though from what Maxine had heard, he was also a good leader who looked out for his men.

And Mia, or Doc Arricante, as most people called her, was mostly known for being quiet. Or odd, if one listened to the meaner tongues talking about the young woman. But Maxine knew she was also kind and brave, a good medic who cared for the people around her.

Accepting another drag of Mia's cigarette, Maxine lay back and looked up into the evening sky. The first stars were already out, twinkling on the warm background of soft pink and blue. She blew out the smoke, watching it waft away, the silver tendrils curling and rolling in the air. A smile stretched on her lips. She had made the right decision. She was her own person and she would never trade the camaraderie of the paratroopers for a family that couldn't see past her good looks.

After a few minutes, Speirs disappeared without much more than a nod and a respectful "Arricante. Lloyd.", leaving the two women alone.

They stayed in companionable silence. Maxine did have a few questions, but decided to hold off asking them in favour of relishing the peaceful quietude for a bit longer.