Hi everyone! I finally got around to publishing this chapter. It's actually been sitting on my harddrive for two weeks, but real life got in the way, as usual.

Massive thanks to my lovely friend Lou, who helped me out with this chapter by slipping into the reporter role again! And of course a big thank you to all of you for reading and reviewing this story. I'm really happy that you enjoy it and I love reading your thoughts on it.

The next chapters will show the women returning home and their lives after the war. I've already started on some parts, but if you have any ideas or suggestions (studies or jobs, relationships, issues or struggles they could face...), let me know. I'm always open to suggestions.

And that concludes my ramblings for today. Enjoy!

The Ladies of the 506 PIR: From D-Day to VJ-Day

Felix T. Arbogast

Over a year ago, in a beach camp in Normandy, this reporter met the women of the 2nd Battalion, 506 Parachute Infantry Regiment, in the 101st Airborne Division. As the attentive reader might recall, 35 women had joined the Army's pioneer program and of the 24 full-fledged paratroopers that had participated in the drop behind enemy lines in the early hours of D-Day, only 11 returned to England a month later. After another year of fighting in this war, there were 6 women left in the 506 PIR, and only 3 were still with their unit on VJ-Day. (For the full roster of female paratroopers, which includes notable achievements and events, medals, and obituaries, see pages 3–7.)

The three women in the picture below have completed two combat jumps, survived countless battles, lived through gunfire and mortar attacks in four European countries. They are part of the Battered Bastards of Bastogne and have beaten the odds again and again. They persevered and got to see the end of this war, surrounded by their comrades and brothers-in-arms.

Looking at a photograph from the early days of basic training, it seems almost impossible to believe that a young small-town girl would become a well-respected and capable squad leader with a reputation for being able to handle even the most temperamental and hot-headed soldiers. Yet Sergeant Theresa Nolan (right) has more than proven herself on and off the battlefield. Intelligent, level-headed and dependable, she led her squad from Normandy to Austria and was awarded a Purple Heart after getting wounded by a sniper in Belgium.

"She took a bullet to the shoulder and didn't even notice at first", recounts Private Roy Cobb, long-time member of Nolan's squad. "At the moment, we were getting shot at by that sniper, but even after the all-clear, it took about two minutes before she collapsed and gave us all a heart attack."

After spending a month in hospital to recover from the wound, Nolan returned to her company a few days before they were pulled off the front line in February 1945.

At the start of the programme, T-4 Mia Arricante (middle) appeared to be yet another unremarkable girl with little chance of making it through basic training, let alone in combat. Defying expectations, this soft-spoken immigrant, who fled the Nazi regime in Germany with her family shortly before the war broke out, become a valued and resourceful member of the medical detachment, showing incredible perseverance and resilience. Trapped in enemy territory, she spent an entire night hiding directly under the enemy's staging point, gaining crucial intel in the process.

"She had blood all over her face and arms from the gravel rash", recalls Captain Lewis Nixon. "It must've hurt like Hell, but she had the presence of mind to pay attention to the conversations happening right above her and commit them to memory."

For feat this truly remarkable feat, Arricante earned a Bronze Star. Rightfully so, considering that even the smallest move or sound could have given her away.

Initially just as underestimated as her fellow female paratroopers was the woman who would go on to be the battalion's most effective sniper. Sergeant Louise Fields (left) has consistently been ranked among the best riflemen of the company since the start of basic training, carrying the Expert Rifleman Badge since 1943. For her part in the extraordinary achievement that was the assault near Brécourt Manor on D-Day, she was awarded a Bronze Star in recognition of her bravery, skill and tenacity.

"People thought someone as temperamental and vocal as Louise could never be a successful marksman because that requires enormous patience and discipline", remarks Sergeant Ryan Gambrill, Field's main spotter. "But those traits are not mutually exclusive. We always knew when to shut up and even when we were completely miserable, lying in mud or snow for hours on end, we would never jeopardise a mission or our own safety for the sake of complaining."

Throughout Easy Company's time on the front lines, Fields has been on numerous scouting, reconnaissance and target elimination missions, often accompanied only by her spotter. Her number of confirmed kills is still classified, but estimates range between 85 and 120.

This author was fortunate enough to get the chance to speak to the three women in person. When asked to comment on their heroic and outstanding achievements, their responses were poignant and incredibly humbling.

"Public opinion of us has done a complete turnaround", says Sergeant Fields. "At first, the papers printed almost exclusively slanderous speculations and predicted our failure, based purely on the fact that we are women. After D-Day, or after Market Garden at the latest, we were suddenly being hailed as heroes and trailblazers for the women's rights movement. We are not here to push a political agenda or because we are after fame, glory and accolades. We signed up to fight for our country, to support our families, to help end the war."

Sergeant Nolan agrees with her sister-in-arms and adds: "We did our job and tried to survive. That doesn't make us heroes. It makes us soldiers, who paid with blood, sweat and tears for the end of this war. And now, all we want is to go back home and live our lives in peace."

"I don't feel like a hero", admits T-5 Arricante. "In those situations [editor's note: referring to her two experiences of being completely alone and unarmed in enemy territory], I was focused on staying alive and getting back to Easy. The rest of the time, I was busy doing my job and making it through to the next day, like everyone else."

Their thoughts, their experiences and feelings are echoed in the picture above: as much as it is filled with exhilaration and evokes feelings of joy, relief and celebration, it is also a sobering reminder of the costs of war. All three of them bear scars from injuries they received in battle, they've lost countless friends and comrades, saw death, destruction and pain. Their plans and hopes for when they come back are soberingly simple: adjust to peacetime and civilian life and get used to feeling safe again.

It is this author's firm opinion that we, the people, must give these brave, selfless and extraordinary women the time and privacy they need and deserve to reconnect with their families and settle back into their lives. We owe it to them.

Liebe Mama, Lieber Papa,

Lieber Jonas und Sebastian, Liebe Katharina und Letizia,

I hope you are all healthy and happy. I'm okay and right now, I'm very excited because when you read this, I will probably already be on a ship crossing the Atlantic. The war in the Pacific is over! We can come home.

I am really looking forward to coming home. I will be glad if I never have to see a flooded field, a hedgerow, a dyke or a snowed-in forest again. With a shower, a real bed, Mama's good food and clothes that aren't drab green, home will feel like Heaven. I have missed you so much and I'm still sorry that I didn't come home on leave before we shipped out. I know you didn't really understand why I signed up and I didn't want to make it more difficult for you than it already was. I hope you can understand and forgive me for that.

It's still surreal. I'm 21 now, old enough to drink legally. I've been in Europe for nearly two years, in the Army for three. It feels a lot longer than that, but also a lot shorter. Time sometimes moves different here. One of my friends once said that the Army is 80% "hurry up and wait". Some days, you're running around all day and should ideally be able to split yourself four ways because there's so much to do and you're lucky if you get two minutes to eat something or go pee. Some days, you sit around and all you can do is wait for the brass to make up their minds and give orders. Some days, you get orders to double-time it to a new location and then you get there and have no idea what's going on because your superior doesn't know and their superior doesn't know… so some days feel like they take two hours and some like they take two weeks.

But it's okay. Waiting to hear when we are shipping out is a lot better. The war is over and we can breathe and smile again. I can't wait to be home and see you all again. I love you and I miss you.

Alles Liebe,

Mia

Dear Ma and Pa

Dear Sam

I'm coming home.

You've read that right. The war is now truly over – I'm sure that's old news by the time you get this letter – and in three weeks, we are shipping out. I should be home in early September.

Even as I'm writing this, I still can't fully believe it. I have been waiting to hear the words "The war is over" for so long. I had stopped hoping at some point. We just focused on making it through to the next day, because none of the predictions we heard about how long we'd be fighting came true… They told us '3 days and 3 nights' before D-Day. We spent a month in the field. Then it was 'Berlin by Christmas' and later 'mid-March action at the earliest'. We spent Christmas in the Bois Jacques, getting the crap shelled out of us constantly getting shelled, and weren't pulled off the front lines until the end of February. In May, they told us Hitler was dead, but the war wasn't over. Then the war was over, but we couldn't go home. We became an occupation force; a month later, we started training again for redeployment and after two more months of waiting for the hammer to fall, so to speak, we can now finally truly stand down. I can't begin to describe how incredible and overwhelming the moment was when we were told the news. I felt like my chest was going to explode, I had so many emotions filling me.

Pa, I know you were against me enlisting from the start. I want you to know that I don't regret it. In spite of all the horrors I have seen, the misery and pain I have experienced, I don't regret going to war. I have lost a few things during my service (the last of my puppy fat, my naivety, some preconceptions, my tendency to cry at the drop of a hat, many good friends), but I have also gained a number of things: confidence, strength, endurance, the trust of my subordinates, equals and superiors, the loyalty of my squad, some nightmares and scars, and a wonderful group of brothers and sisters. Was it worth it? I think so. Would I do it again, knowing what I know now? I haven't decided yet. I just want you to know that I made the right decision three years ago. I hope that even if you can't accept that, you can be proud of who I've become.

I can't wait to see you again. I miss you so much and I am counting the days until I'm able to hug you all.

With all my love

Theresa

Dear Gramps,

Dear Hazel, Jimmy, Anna, Melvin and Charlie,

I can't believe I finally get to write these words: I'm coming home! I'm not entirely sure yet when we'll ship out, but hopefully, by the time this letter arrives, I will already be closer to the North American coastline than the European one.

How are you all? I am well. Over the moon that we finally get to go home. I've had enough of war, of fighting. Of grief and anger and dirt and disgusting rations. Gramps, you know what I mean and I know one day in the near future, you and I will sit out on Long Tail Point and you'll get me to talk about everything. Until then… well, I don't know what until then. We'll see.

Melvin, how was your night out with that girl you mentioned? Abigail? You've probably told me about it in your latest letter, but that hasn't arrived yet. I hope you had a good time, it sounded like you really like her.

Hazel, you'll be happy to hear that my friend Joe has taught me how to do a fishtail braid – the one I wear in the picture you clipped from the newspaper. I promise I'll braid your hair like this and teach you how to do it yourself when I'm back home. And yes, I also promise to teach you how to drive, if Gramps allows it. (Ask Melvin about the time we took Gramps' car out for a spin when he was 14. We almost mowed down the letter box.)

Charlie, any more explosions lately? Is the shed still in one piece? I'm just teasing, I know that has happened only twice so far. Besides, we still have a hole in the garden from when my chemistry experiment went wrong, so I'd be a big hypocrite if I mocked you for this.

Anna, please tell me you kicked that Billy Masterson where it hurts. He had no right to pull your hair like that and push you in the mud. As for what he said: I truly hope you don't believe him. It's not true in the slightest and if he is ever nasty to you again, tell Gramps. He'll speak to Billy's parents; you know he'll make sure Billy doesn't bother you again.

Jimmy, congratulations! Well done! I want you to know how proud I am of you and that I'm so so sorry that I couldn't be there for your graduation ceremony. I bet you looked dashing in your gown and cap. I'm happy your parents could be there and that you enjoyed the gift they gave you.

I have to go now, but I promise to write as soon as I know when we ship out. I miss you all dearly and can't wait to come home.

Love,

Louise