Nixon - June 1944
The drop into Normandy was perilous. Just as Nixon had feared, nothing seemed to go as planned. It was as if the Germans were waiting for them to arrive based off of how much fire they experienced. Nixon, like most of the men, missed his drop zone but he was lucky enough to quickly link up with Battalion headquarters. It was a chaotic couple of first days in France as the airborne got situated in relation to the troops on the beach. Early into their arrival, Winters and the available Easy Company men took down some German guns. This not only saved a number of lives on the beaches but produced a map detailing German artillery positions. Looking at it, Nixon realized how important it could be. It couldn't wait, so he decided to run to Utah beach to hand the map over to the higher ups who could do something with it. The run to Utah was only three miles, no worse than he had experienced during training. He was grateful though that Command decided to send the first two tanks that landed in to aid the 101st, thus providing Nixon with a ride.
He greeted Winters with a cheeky smile when he returned to the assembly area. "Going my way?"
Winters tossed his gun up for Nixon to catch, "sure."
The men bunkered down for the night, scrounging for what food and beds they could find. The Battalion was on the move by June 8th on their way to take Carentan. As according to plan, the 101st forced passage into Carentan on June 10th and 11th. The days were hot and muggy, barely cooling down at night for the men dressed in heavy uniforms and equipment. Bugs were everywhere and exhaustion was setting in. Finally, they encountered the Germans. On June 12th the German's were forced to withdraw and it seemed like victory was theirs. But Nixon was suspicious. Surely the Germans wouldn't give up such an important position so easily; and he was right. On June 13th the 17th SS PzG Division counter-attacked. Thankfully, the U.S. 2nd Armored Division came in for support.
When Nixon returned to Battalion headquarters with news of their victory he found that Emily had finally arrived.
"Emily!" he wanted nothing more than to hug her in that moment. The last week had been exhausting. It was such a comfort to see her.
"Miss me?" she grinned up at him. Her smile was like a shot of morphine, he immediately felt his muscles relax. "You look a mess," she shook her head.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, we've only been taking Carentan."
"Congratulations," she said, "did you like the tanks I sent you?"
Nixon looked at her flabbergasted. Then slowly, through the haze of his fatigue, he realized she was messing with him. "Ha ha. It would've been impressive if you had."
"Yeah I wish, unfortunately I'm not that powerful yet."
Nixon slung his arm around her neck, "no but I bet you know where to find me some food."
Despite his exhaustion, Nixon didn't sleep well those final weeks in Normandy. Instead, his alcohol intake increased. He had to re-fill his flask every day, sometimes topping it off throughout the day. He would need to replenish his stores soon. But no one anticipated how long they would actually be fighting in Normandy. In fact, the 101st had expected to be relieved much sooner. Strayer kept asking for patrols as the allies attempted to inch their way closer and closer to Germany.
Twenty-five days after D-Day Nixon was sent out on a patrol with Harry Welsh. It was a reconnaissance mission so Nixon was required to go. What they were looking for he wasn't sure. The regiment had exhausted their knowledge of the German's position in the area so any new piece of information could serve as an advantage.
Nixon peered through a pair of binoculars from where he and Welsh sat in the brush approximately 100 yards from a run down building. "We need to know what's in there," Nixon said.
"I don't know who the hell to send," Welsh said.
"Ask for volunteers."
"I hate asking for volunteers."
Nixon gave Welsh a pointed look, "then pick them."
Blithe, Martin, and Dukeman moved in towards the abandoned manor. The rest of the paratroopers sat hidden in the grass behind Nixon. As they waited for Blithe and the others to get into position Nixon spotted something poking out of Welsh's backpack.
"Harry, what exactly are you doing with your reserve chute? You been hauling that thing around since we jumped?"
Welsh sucked his teeth, slightly embarrassed he said, "gonna send it to Kitty when we get back to England. Silk, figure it'll make a good wedding dress, ya know, what with the rationing and all."
Nixon broke view of where the trio was moving in towards the manor to laugh at Welsh, "jeez Harry, I never would've guessed."
"What? That I'm so sentimental?"
"No, that you think we're going to make it back to England." Nixon peered through his binoculars again. His mind flashed to Emily as he watched the men crouch down behind an upturned cart. Bad news, he thought. He had suspected for a while now that Emily may have feelings for Welsh, a man who clearly was intending on marrying his betrothed. No matter how much he flirted, Welsh wouldn't have bothered lugging that extra chute around if he wasn't serious about Kitty. Bad news for Emily. Suddenly, a shot rang out.
"Covering fire! Covering fire!" Welsh shouted. Martin and Dukeman pulled a downed Blithe back behind the line. They passed Nixon who saw the blood gushing from the young man's throat before Doc Roe got to him.
"Cease fire! Cease fire!" Welsh commanded.
Winters moved up from behind, "what happened?"
"Sniper," Nixon said coming up to him.
Winters couldn't take his eyes off the bleeding Blithe, "they're pulling us off the front line."
"Now?" Nixon demanded.
Winters turned to him, "to a field camp north of Utah beach. Hot food, and showers."
With a last mournful look at Blithe, Nixon turned away to head back. Great fucking timing, he raged to himself.
Emily was at the camp surrounded by intelligence staff and nurses, who were busy at work tending the masses of wounded men.
"Nix?" her voice was gentle when he entered the intelligence tent.
"Couldn't have let us know a little bit sooner? Sent the runner just a few minutes earlier?" he demanded.
"What are you talking about?"
"We were on a patrol and some kid is probably gonna lose his life because that information came a few minutes too late! I sent them in there, I told them to check it out but turns out we didn't need to!" Nixon pounded his fist on one of the tables.
"Lewis I didn't know, that information didn't come from me."
"You're intelligence staff! You're meant to know!"
"I'm not intelligence staff like you are! I'm no S-2," Emily shouted back, "no one tells me anything!"
Nixon paced the room trying to calm down, "okay, okay," he leveled his hands on the desk, "I'm sorry. I just -,"
"It's fine, I'm sorry too," Emily stood across the table from him, looking small in the dim light of the tent. "I do know one thing," she said. He looked up, waiting for her to continue, "we're going back to England."
"Right, great." And he stormed out of the tent onto the beach.
His insomnia didn't improve even knowing that they were going back to a relatively safe zone. It was impossible to sleep with the sounds of men crying out all around and bodies held together by gauze and tape only paces away. Naturally, the night before they were meant to leave, Nixon couldn't sleep. He grabbed his flask and made his way towards the dunes on the far side of the camp.
He plopped down on a ridge into a bed of marsh grass, the coarse tendrils tickling his wrists and neck. Nixon closed his eyes and inhaled. The whiskey he had guzzled earlier that night had seeped pleasingly through his veins. The summer air blew across the salty water cooling the sweat where it pooled around his collarbone and lower back. It was so peaceful. If it weren't for the peppering of tents barely visible against the night sky, Nixon could have pretended he was there on holiday and not for a war.
When he opened his eyes, he saw a lean figure making its way up the dune towards him. Nixon braced himself for the quiet wisdom of Winters. However, the figure failed to grow as it approached him, only reaching a height of about 5′5″. The silhouette revealed itself to be Emily, dressed in another pair of slightly oversized O.D.s.
"What?" Nixon barked at her.
"I saw you pass by," Emily dropped down beside him, bumping his arm on her way down. Disgruntled, Nixon scooted over slightly.
"Why aren't you asleep?"
"Why aren't you?" Emily retorted.
"Couldn't."
"Same here."
Quiet fell between them, a comfortable quiet but Nixon could sense Emily wanted to say more. Finally, her lips parted and she said, "it's not something you can get over."
"What?"
"Seeing the men like that." Emily searched his face in the dark for any reaction. Nixon stared straight ahead. "It's disturbing and not something anyone should ever have to witness."
Nixon licked his lips to speak, but all that came out was, "yeah."
Emily paused, then reached for his flask. She pulled it from his grasp and took a swig, "It's over for now. We have to find comfort in that."
"Right, some comfort in that," he took the flask back for another drink. They sat there side by side listening to the waves crash against the shoreline. As the night waned on, Emily began to doze off. Her head fell to rest on his shoulder. Nixon considered waking her to walk her back to her tent but then decided against it. He didn't want to disturb her. If she woke up now who knew if she would be able to fall asleep again. Besides, he enjoyed sharing a little sliver of the world with her in that moment. A sliver that was simple and not perverted by violence.
When the sun rose, she stirred and they both made their way back to their tents for a desperate last few hours of sleep before they were to ship off. As Nixon was boarding the ship he saw Emily standing on the Mulberry harbor hugging a dark, thin woman dressed in a nurses uniform. The woman brushed wild hairs away from Emily's forehead then pressed something into her hand. Nixon couldn't help but wonder what that exchange had been about. Out of curiosity, he met Emily at the gangway. "Who was that?" he asked.
"Hm?" Emily pulled a paper wrapped candy out of her pocket.
"Who was that woman you were talking to? A nurse?"
"Oh yeah, that's my friend Marwa."
"I didn't know you had female friends."
Emily rolled her eyes and popped the candy into her mouth.
"What was that?" Nixon pointed to her mouth.
"Ginger candy, you want one?" Emily offered him a candy and Nixon accepted, beginning to feel like his old self again standing next to her.
