February 26, 1943 - Fort Benning, GA
After another drill in which Captain Sobel screwed up, I walk the campgrounds with Don, Skip, and Penk. We are told that we will be transferred to Camp Mackall that afternoon. Suddenly, however, I see a familiar face. "You've got to be kidding me," I shout, and the man looks up and then starts grinning big. "For fuck's sake, I didn't think I'd see you again so soon, Harry, or should I say, Lieutenant Welsh," I call out and run up to him before giving him a big hug. "Wow, it's good to see you, Kiddo," he returns and lifts me briefly before putting me back down.
Don, Skip, and Penk stand behind us, confused. "What are you doing here?" I ask Harry, and he grins. "I was transferred here. 101st Airborne Division, 2nd Battalion..." "If you say Easy Company now, I'll scream," I say excitedly, and Harry covers his ears before I yelp in delight and give him another hug. "Oh my god! I'm so excited!" I let go of Harry again. "You're going to love it. Except for our CO. He's... special and not particularly capable, but we'll work it out somehow." "What do you mean not capable?" "He gets all nervous in field exercises and can't read a map."
I take a glance behind me. "Oh, by the way, these are Privates Donald Malarkey, Warren Muck, and Alex Penkala," I introduce my friends, taking a step forward. "Guys, this is Lieutenant Harry Welsh. He's from the 82nd and is with us now." "Sir," the three of them say, and Harry nods. "Do you know which platoon yet?" I then ask, but Harry shakes his head. "No, not yet, but I should meet with the XO now." "Ah, Winters... In there," I say, pointing to a barracks. "Could be you're taking over Lt. Nixon's platoon. He's been promoted to intelligence officer." "We'll see about that, kid," Harry says, then walks away before waving at me again.
I turn to the guys, who all look at me questioningly. "What?" Don raises his eyebrows. "I told you guys about the soldier who was always nice to me, right?" I ask, and the three nod. "Well, that was Harry. He and I were in the same company in the 82nd until they transferred me and sent him to OCS." "Well then. A friend of yours is a friend of ours," Skip grins.
A little later, we get ready to board the train. They are moving us to Camp Mackall. I'm just throwing my bag on the wagon and heading back to Don and the others when Joe Toye waves me over. "Hey Liv... Do you know where we're going yet?" he asks, shaking my head in amusement. "You know full well that even if I did, which is highly unlikely, I wouldn't be allowed to tell you, right?" I kneel down with him, Shifty, Cobb, and Popeye. "Spoilsport," Joe grins, and I smile at him. "I don't think even the officers know where we're going. Except maybe Nixon, but that's his job."
"I hear you know our new guy. Welsh?" asks Cobb then, and I nod. "What's he like?" "As far as I know, he's got what it takes. Better than you know who." "That's not hard, is it, Blondie?" asks Cobb, and I look at him with raised eyebrows. The relationship between him and me is strained. Very different from Liebgott because I have no positive feelings left for Roy Cobb. He's just a dick. "Shut up, Cobb," Joe now interjects. "Ah, you gotta admit, he's got no chance. Either the Krauts will get him or one of us," Cobb says as Liebgott joins us. "Who, Sobel?" I nod.
"He screwed up one maneuver," Shifty says, and I look at him gently. Good-natured, naive Shifty. "Oh, Shifty... You always want to see the good in everyone, don't you?" I ask, and he looks at me. "Ah, you know, I'm always fumbling with grenades. It would be easy if one went off by accident, you know," Liebgott says, and I look at him briefly.
"Well, now, they must have put him in charge for a reason." "Yeah, cos the Army wouldn't make a mistake, right, Shift?" We're all silent for a moment, and I spot Lipton next to us, who must have heard everything. "Very well," I say and stand up. "I'll see you guys later."
June 23, 1943 - Camp Mackall, North Carolina
We have been at Camp Mackall for several months now. Here we have been doing more field exercises, and it is becoming increasingly clear that Sobel is incompetent and will probably get us all killed. At this moment, I'm lying next to Don in a ditch. "Petty. Map. Come on," Sobel calls to Petty. The latter gives me and Don a brief annoyed look. "Oh, Christ." "What is that idiot doing?" I hiss to Don, who shrugs. "2nd platoon, move out," Winters informs us, and I look up in shock. "What?" Muck also asks, confused. "Tactical column," Winters says, and we do as he says. We have to. "Fuck," I grumble and follow the others out of the ditch.
It doesn't take long, and the enemy team in front of us emerges from the bushes. "Dammit," Don grumbles next to me. "Captain, you've just been killed, along with 95% of your company. Your outfit?" asks one of the observing officers. "Easy Company, 2nd Battalion, 506th," Sobel says, and you can tell he's not too happy either. "Leave three wounded men on the ground and report back to the assembly area." "Goddamn it. You, you, you," Sobel says, pointing to three soldiers.
Together, we make our way back. "Jesus, it would be so easy," I whisper to Don, raising my gun ever so slightly. Of course, I know it's not loaded, but it's all about the gesture. Don begins to chuckle beside me. "This man will be the death of us; I'll tell you that," Skip then interjects. "Well, a little birdie told me he probably won't last long if we really jump into action then," I say, and they both look at me. "Better him than us," Don says, and we nod.
September 6, 1943 - Brooklyn Naval Shipyard, NY
"Okay 2nd Platoon, listen up," Roush calls to us, and we line up in formation. "We still need certain inoculations for embarkation and seasickness pills. Sergeant Stark, make sure your people have all reported in, and everything is orderly," he demands, and I nod. "Yes, sir." He presses a handful of identification cards into my hand. "The medical IDs. They'll have to be carried on one after this. See that the men fill out their medical information, Sergeant." I nod, and he steps down.
"Okay, listen up, guys. Squad leaders on me and get the IDs for your men. You're responsible for ensuring your men are vaccinated when we board this ship, understand?" They nod, and then Lip, Bill, and Chuck come to me. I hand them the identification cards. "Have the men wear these on them. I assume this is a security precaution." The three nod and go to their squads. "Private Bain, Corporal Roe, you're with me." The medic and radioman approach me. "Here." I hand them their IDs. "You'll need to turn these in when you're vaccinated and then wear them on you, okay?" They both nod, and I look briefly at Bill, who nods to me, signaling that we are ready.
Together, we walk toward the rooms where they are administering the vaccinations. Slightly nervous, I sit in the chair and knead my hands. "Are you okay, Olivia?" Gene asks me, and I look at him. "Yeah, why? What should be?" "You seem nervous." "Well... I wouldn't say I like shots, to be honest. Never have." Gene smirks. "Didn't think so now." I shrug my head, then smile at him. "Don't worry; it's just Typhoid, Smallpox, and Tetanus. It's not that bad." "Oh yeah, my last tetanus shot made my arm hurt like ass for a week," I laugh, and Gene shakes his head.
When I'm called on, I look to Gene again. "Wish me luck," I grin at him, and he shakes his head again. I am led into another room where several curtains are hung to shield the soldiers. I continue to knead my hands and then take a deep breath. You can do this, Liv; you're going to war; a little needle isn't going to be a problem.
"Is someone afraid of needles?" I hear a voice and turn around. Liebgott looks at me mockingly. He is also waiting for his injection. I squeeze my eyes shut but say nothing. "What, lost your tongue, Stark?" I turn back to him. "Can't you just let it go for once, Liebgott?" I ask, and he shrugs. "Sergeant Stark?" I am then called. I walk up to the nurse, who eyes me curiously. "Watch out, Stark, if she misses, your arm will fall off," Liebgott calls after me. "Shut up, Liebgott!"
September 10, 1943 - The Samaria - Somewhere on the Atlantic
We have been on the stinking ship for four days now—about 5000 soldiers. We are crammed together, and it is just hot. There are not many places of space for yourself other than your own assigned bunk or, if you are lucky, on deck. Most nights, there aren't a lot of soldiers upstairs, so I often get up there and spend a few quiet minutes. Otherwise, if you want to stretch your legs, you have to fight through the men's scramble, which I try to avoid as much as possible. The constant shouts and catcalls are getting on my nerves.
This evening I lie comfortably in my bunk and smoke a cigarette. In the other hand, I have a book that Web has lent me. Finally, Don and Muck return and lie down in their bunks, where Don immediately opens a magazine. "Where have you been?" I ask, and he looks at me for a moment. "Oh, on deck. I needed some fresh air." "Understandable." Discussions keep coming up among the men that we're being shipped to Europe, not the Pacific, as we are now. "Hey, guys, I'm glad I'm going to Europe. Hitler gets one of these right across the windpipe; Roosevelt changes Thanksgiving to Joe Toye Day and pays me ten grand a year for the rest of my fucking life," Toye says, holding up a knife. Above us, Smokey speaks up. "What if we don't get to Europe? What if they send us to North Africa?" "My brother's in North Africa; he says it's hot," Bill now says, lying in the bunk in front of me. "Really? It's hot in Africa?" asks Don sarcastically, and I nudge him.
"Shut up. Point is, it don't matter where we go. Once we get into combat, the only person you can trust is yourself and the fella next to you," Bill continues. "Hey, long as he's a paratrooper," Toye says. "Oh, yeah? What if that paratrooper turns out to be Sobel?" now George, who is climbing into his bunk, interjects. "If I'm next to Sobel in combat, I'm moving on down the line. Hook up with some other officer, like Heyliger or Winters," Pat, who is lying above me, now joins in. I smile at their discussions. In the end, everything will probably be different than we imagine anyway. "I like Winters, he's a good man, but when the bullets start flying, I don't know if I want a Quaker doing my fighting for me," Bill says again, and I sit up. "How do you know he's a Quaker?" I ask. "He ain't Catholic." "So what?" "Neither's Sobel," Don now says, and I look at him angrily because he just contradicted my statement.
"That prick's a son of Abraham," Bill continues, and I sit up. "Are you serious?" "He's what?" now Liebgott, sitting across from us in an upper bunk, interjects. "He's a Jew." Great, now it's over. I rub my hand over my face. Liebgott's gaze briefly meets mine before he tosses his smoke to the floor and jumps off his bunk. "Oh, fuck. I'm a Jew." "Congratulations. Get your nose outta my face," Bill says, pushing Liebgott away from him, which he doesn't put up with, and lunges. Some men are quickly on the spot and try to separate the two. Of course, I can't help trying to push myself between them. "Are you fucking serious?! You're fighting over Sobel?! Fuck! How stupid can you be?" I shout and push Bill in one direction and Liebgott in another, but they ignore me.
Suddenly I feel a sharp pain on my nose. I stagger backward and immediately grab it. Blood streams down my fingers, and tears shoot into my eyes. "Fuck, Liv!", I hear someone shout, and then I feel Don next to me. "See! That's what you get! Fucking idiots!", Don shouts angrily, and I can only see Bill and Liebgott looking at me in shock. "Shit, sorry Liv!" I hear Bill say. One of them must have caught me.
"Hey Liv, let me see," I hear Gene's voice. He and Don lead me to an empty bunk where I sit down, and Gene examines my nose. "It's not broken, so that's something," he says as he gently puts his fingers to my nose. Then he takes a handkerchief and holds it out to me. "Idiots," Don mutters next to me. "There's probably going to be a bruise, Liv. He got you real good. And you're going to have to change your OD's. They're pretty fucked up," Gene then says, pointing down. I also look down for a moment; all my OD's are full of blood stains. "Great," I grumble. Next to us I can hear the others discussing. "Come on; I'll take you; I have to go that way anyway," Gene says, and I give Don's arm a quick squeeze.
Gene and I make our way upstairs when suddenly Winters and Harry are standing in front of us. "Jesus Christ, Liv, what happened to you?" asks Harry immediately. "Just a little accident, Harry. It's all right," I say, smiling at him. "Doc?" now Winters asks, addressing Gene. "Two of the men got into an altercation and Liv got in the middle of it. An elbow hit her nose, sir, but it's not broken." "I just need new OD's, sir," I now say and Winters nods. "Okay, I'll let Sergeant Roberts know. Wait here a minute," Winters says and disappears. "Who was involved?" asks Harry then. "Guarnere and Liebgott," Roe says, and Harry gives me a knowing look. "Figures... Are you okay, Liv?" I nod. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just waiting for it to stop bleeding." Then Winters comes back with Supply Sergeant Roberts and presses a new top into my hand. "Clean yourself up and any further incidents will be reported to me immediately," says Winters. "Yes, sir," I say nodding to Gene and Harry.
In the restrooms, I change briefly. My nose is still bleeding slightly, but it's not that bad anymore, but there is already a nasty bruise forming beside my nose. Then I go up on the deck and sit against the railing on the floor. It's already fresh, but I don't care right now. I can't go back below just yet.
When my nose finally stopped bleeding, I put the rag next to me, cross my arms, and stretch out my legs. I close my eyes and lean my head against the railing. Suddenly, I notice someone standing next to me. When I look up, I am surprised that it is Liebgott. "How's your nose?" he asks. "It's been better if I'm honest," I return. He takes a deep breath. "May I?" he asks, and I nod as he sits down next to me. "I'm sorry." "What?" "I'm sorry I hit you. That... I didn't mean to." Now I realize that, in that case, it was Liebgott who did it. "You were standing there and my elbow... Well, as I said, I'm sorry."
He lights a smoke and holds it out to me before lighting one for himself. "It's all right. It was an accident." Liebgott bites his lips and looks down at his legs. "It's just... Guarnere's comment was totally out of line." I nod. "I know. I agree with you." "Really?" "Yeah. I mean, why does it matter where someone is from or what their religion is? At the end of the day, we're all here for the same reason, right?" Liebgott says nothing, and we sit there smoking our cigarettes for a moment. Then Liebgott rummages in his pocket and holds out a bottle to me. "Here, as an apology." I take it. "Okay, wow. Where did you get that?" "That's my secret," he says, taking out another beer bottle. We open it and cheer the bottles together.
Silently, we drink our bottles. The stars shine above us, and you can hear the water lapping beside us. I don't think the two of us have been together so long without arguing. I keep catching myself giving Liebgott little glances, but always careful that he doesn't see me.
"Ah, there you are!" Don comes up to us, grinning. "I was beginning to think you'd jumped ship." "Sorry to disappoint you, Malarkey. You're still stuck with me for a bit." As he comes closer and spots our beers, he falters. "Are you fucking serious? You have beers, and you don't say anything!" "Sorry, but this is my apology gift," I say, taking another sip. "Cut the crap and hand over the bottle, Stark," Don laughs and sits in front of us. I hand it to him, and he takes a sip. "Oh, this is just great." He hands the bottle back to me. "Your nose looks like shit, by the way." "Thanks for the flowers, Don. I know... Liebgott did a great job." "Hey, I said I was sorry, okay?!" "Don't get your panties in a bunch Liebgott; it was just a joke. Even though the bruises on my face would deny that."