Two months went by like this, the Basterds raiding camps and intercepting Nazi brigades. They kept assorted German uniforms, a few of rank, most of a casual, unremarkable soldier. Ella cooked every night she could - when she didn't, the men griped about how they would rather eat tree bark. One evening, she overheard Utivich and Omar talking about how it was nice to have a 'woman's touch' sometimes, and that made Ella happy. Her men respected her, but they liked having her around as well. That wasn't usually the goal of a commanding officer, but for Ella, it was just fine.
The chilly and cloudy gloom gave way to warm French sunshine in April, and the Basterds spent more time sitting outside at the fire than in their tents trying to conserve heat. Ella had taken an afternoon to give each of the men a haircut, since they so desperately needed them. Living in a tent tended to roughen up a man.
"Ella, I want you to go into town tomorrow. You know what that means," Aldo said when Ella had finished with his hair.
"Curlers!" Donny yelled from inside his tent, sending himself into a laughing fit at the image. Ella picked up a pinecone and threw it at the canvas.
"Shut up, Donny. I meant you need to look nice. Also Wicki will take you, in one of the uniforms, so pretend you like Nazis, okay?"
"Sure. Should I speak German or French?"
"Both. You'll be a French girl courting a German soldier." Aldo splashed water on his face. "Basically, we need to know gossip. So, the papers, the cafes, like that."
"Like Louisville."
"Exactly. Wicki, did you hear all that?" Aldo asked the other Corporal. Wicki nodded, lighting a cigarette.
Donny came out of his tent and sat cross-legged in front of Ella. They had to make do without a chair, but if Ella sat up on her knees like she was in church, she could get a good angle if the men sat low enough. Ella laid a dirty, torn shirt over his shoulders and pushed his head forward a little to get the back of his neck evenly.
"Hey, why does Wicki get to take ya to town?"
"Because he speaks German, Donny. I don't think you would pass for German. Or French, for that matter."
"But it gets boring sitting in the woods," he huffed.
"I've been here with you the whole time, Donny. I know." She moved over to his right side. "It's not going to be fun, anyways. We're there to listen in on people and to learn information."
Donny huffed, going quiet under the scissors. Something told Ella that there was more to it than him being bored in the woods, but when Donny didn't want to talk, there was no way around it. He stayed quiet for the rest of his haircut, and Ella let him be.
Ella was up before any of the men the next morning (except, of course, whomever was on watch), making sure to take her curlers out before they saw. Donny was right - they looked ridiculous. But they helped her put together her civilian persona, so they were necessary.
She slipped into her dress, a navy cap-sleeve with tan trim around the collar and sleeves with a bow at the v on her sternum. It was tight through her waist and went flowy at the hips, the hem falling just below her knees. The seamstresses, who were the wives of two British Lieutenants on the base, had done a wonderful job. Ella had enough room to strap a PPK pistol she had taken from a German soldier on the first raid on her thigh. Out a small velvet case she took a vial of mascara and a palette of rouge with a small mirror, deciding her eyes were dark enough to skip the eyeliner this time. It was no fancy occasion, anyways. Just a few hours in town.
Once the rouge was applied beneath her cheekbones and the mascara was on her lashes, she put away the makeup and bent to get her shoes. Her favorites were a pair of Mary Janes, closed-toe with two small straps and buckles and a black-and-white leather design that was reminiscent of a man's saddle shoe. The heel was about two inches, much more than her boots were, but hopefully she would be used to them by the time she and Wicki got to town. Last were the gloves, simple tan ones that covered her wrists and matched the tan of the bow and her dress.
The men were starting to wake up, and she could hear Aldo tending the fire. He would expect them to leave soon. Just before she left the tent, though, she remembered her lipstick. Back to the velvet case and the mirror. The only shade she had was a medium red that one seamstress told her fit her skin tone, as if Ella knew better. She stalled another five minutes, putting on the lipstick and examining herself in the palm-sized mirror. It was certainly strange, seeing herself all made-up and feminine, but she knew the key to pulling off a guise like this was confidence to back it up. Preparing for the endless teasing that would come from the boys, Ella picked up her small black purse and stepped out of her tent to meet her soldiers.
"There's my little spy," Aldo said from a log by the fire. Every eye in the camp turned to her, and silence ensued for a moment. Aside from Aldo, the only Basterd that had seen her in actual civilian clothing was Donny, and that was only once and not nearly this put-together. He gaped just the same as the rest of them. She sighed.
"Been awhile since you saw a woman all dressed up, huh, boys?" She took a cigarette out of her purse and went over to Aldo for a light. He just pulled a stick out of the fire and held it out to her.
"You can't expect me to feel classy after that."
"I don't. Just when you leave camp."
"Miss Demski?" Wicki had emerged from the tent he shared with Utivich, dressed in the grey uniform of a German Private. Since the day she had addressed the new recruits, she hadn't seen any of them in an official uniform. As much as she hated the Nazis, they knew how to uniform a man.
"Hello, schön!" Ella said, getting up and kissing Wicki on both cheeks. She could practically feel the daggers coming from Aldo's eyes. Whatever - she was getting in character. And Wicki was handsome.
"Ain't you two cute. Now git outta here, it's almost nine," Aldo grumbled. He really had turned into a father or older brother to Ella - namely in the way of protectiveness. Nothing Ella did got past Aldo. Especially not her being a little flirty.
"Yes, sir," Ella replied, saluting enthusiastically and sticking her tongue out at him. "Ready?"
Wicki nodded and offered her his arm. Ella couldn't help but notice that Donny had gone into his tent once Wicki had appeared. For some reason, he was mad that he couldn't go into town. She let it go, figuring he'd get over it once they returned without any real news.
Once they reached the road, Ella and Wicki didn't have far to go until they reached Château-Thierry, a town on La Marne river not terribly far from Paris but still close to the woods where they could camp and not be noticed. The Germans actively occupied Château-Thierry, so Wicki could dress as a soldier without anyone questioning him. On the Avenue, where most of the shops were, it was fairly common to see soldiers, so that's where Ella and Wicki headed.
They started by going to a General Store, Ella asking the woman at the counter for a newspaper while Wicki browsed.
"Vous êtes une fille chanceuse, courtiser un soldat!" the woman said, glancing at Wicki. (You are a lucky girl, courting a soldier!)
"Merci, madame. Il est très beau, pour un Allemand!" she joked, and they laughed. (Thank you, Ma'am. He is quite handsome, for a German!)
"Voici votre journal. En parlant de soldats, il ya un article sur Frederick Zoller et le nouveau film de Goebbels aujourd'hui. Mais la première page parle d'un homme qui a tué treize officiers nazis!" (Here's your newspaper. Speaking of soldiers, there's a piece about Frederick Zoller and Goebbels' new movie today. But the front page is about a man that killed thirteen Nazi officers!)
Ella's eyebrows shot up. "Mon dieu! Treize?" she exclaimed. (My God! Thirteen?) Forget cafe gossip. She and Wicki had just found real news. Looking down at the paper, Ella saw fourteen pictures, the largest being an angry-looking Sergeant. Below were the officers he had killed, some of which were on the Basterds' hit list. Ella tried to keep herself calm.
"Oui. Dieu merci, il est de la rue et en garde des Allemands." (Yes. Thank goodness he is off the streets and in custody of the Germans.)
"Comment effrayant. Je suis heureux qu'ils l'ont attrapé," Ella replied. (How frightening. I'm glad they caught him.) Wicki walked up beside her with two oranges and placed them on the counter beside the paper, fishing in his pockets for a coin.
"Interessante Neuigkeiten heute, Wilhelm. Möchten Sie ins Cafe gehen?" (Interesting news today, Wilhelm. Would you like to go to the cafe?) Wicki smiled and nodded, placing a silver coin on the counter for the attendant.
"Merci, Monsieur. Bonne journée, Mademoiselle." (Thank you, sir. Good day, Miss.)
"Adieu," Ella replied, and she took Wicki's arm again. They walked three blocks to a cafe, and Ella ordered them two cups of coffee, two croissants, and plates for their oranges, since Wicki's French was very limited.
"Über die Mann. Hugo Stiglitz." (About the man. Hugo Stiglitz.) "Wir sollten sagen der Lieutenant, nein?" (We should tell the Lieutenant, no?)
"Ya," Wicki said as their coffees and croissants arrived. "Wir müssen." (We must.)
Ella nodded. "Was denken Sie, wird er tun?" (What do you think he will do?)
"Wir werden sehen. Ich hoffe, dass wir etwas tun." (We will see. I hope we do something.)
From there, they went on to talk quietly about French and German films, where they were going for Christmas, about what life was like for Wicki as a German soldier, all while listening to the chatter around them. They heard that the Jew Hunter, Colonel Hans Landa of the SS, was in France. Other than that, there was no real valuable information - aside from what the newspaper told them, of course.
"Soll ich dich nach Hause bringen?" (Shall I take you home?) This was their code to ask if they should head back.
"Ya. Mein Vater wird sich freuen, dich zu sehen." (Yes. My father will be glad to see you.) She tucked the newspaper under her arm and they left the cafe.
"Aldo!" Ella called when they got back to the camp. "Aldo, you gotta see this."
"What the hell are you yelling about?"
"News, Aldo. Here." She clumsily sat next to him on the log by the fire, handing him the newspaper.
"Goddamnit, El, I don't read German."
"I know, but see this guy? Above all those German officers?"
"Git to the point."
"He killed the rest of them. All thirteen, before getting caught. Brutally."
Aldo was suddenly interested. "What's this got to do with us?"
"They're not executing him. They're taking him to Berlin and 'making an example out of him,' it says."
Aldo looked down at the paper, thinking. Ella waited, almost able to see him thinking.
"Well, boys, looks like we're going to Berlin."
A/N: Woohoo! Off to Berlin! Thanks for reading, everyone!
