The time had come and the sun was beginning to rise behind them as they moved silently and low through the high fields of grain that surrounded their target village. They had divided the men up in four groups, with around twelve soldiers in each (including their leader); Danvers leading one, Rogers leading the other, Rogg with the third, and Barnes with the fourth. The plan was to have Rogers and Danvers' groups come in head on, being a distraction for Barnes and Rogg, whose groups would split off so one could flank the church from the left, and the other from the right.
Carol's heart drummed in her chest and sweat began accumulating around her hairline in anxiety. She flexed her hands that held the stock and surrounded the trigger guard of her M1 Garand rifle. Her and Rogers had taken their supplements an hour prior, and she was hoping to god that they would aid them both in their first, and hopefully not last, battle.
She couldn't see any enemies nearby and wondered if they were even patrolling at all, or still in the village. In fact, she was beginning to wonder why the action hadn't started. Maria did say that the men really couldn't make it that far in without getting picked off early in each attack. Perhaps they retreated to some bigger goal they were unaware of? However, she didn't need to think about that right now. What she needed to do was find a way to protect her squad. While it was their job to attract attention, there would be no good in a distraction if they were all mowed down in ten seconds. She needed to help them find some cover. She could see the tall church tower further east down the road.
"Someone get eyes on the tower," she whispered. "Check for snipers."
"Yes, sir," someone whispered behind her in return. They entered the cobblestone road of the village and Carol's eyes shifted from right to left. Perhaps she would shelter them inside one of the stores, or keep them on the street- but behind vehicles? It was more likely for bullets to penetrate the hull of automobiles than it was a brick wall, but putting them in a building also trapped them. But if one of these buildings had a back door that led to an alleyway that was less observed by the enemy, they could close in closer up than down the main road. The closer to the church they were, the bigger the threat they became, and the less likely the enemy would notice the flanks closing in.
"We're gonna go-" Carol tried to whisper her command, but was cut short by a riotous command shouted up the street in German. Before she could order the men to take cover, bullets ripped through the air, puncturing the dirt and stone road and brick walls of the buildings. It continued to resonate in Carol's ears as the gunner down the road left his finger on the trigger of what was, no doubt, an MG-42. It sounded like the most disorganized drum line on a tortuous repeat. The men knew what to do, though, and hid behind cars and newspaper stands. Crouching behind a car herself, she tried to peek through the windows. Somewhere to her right, Lt. Rogers was also commanding to his team, ushering them behind any kind of cover they could find. The men began firing back, taking any risk to kill the gunner.
A flash of movement to Carol's left caught her eye. Turning on survival instincts, she raised her rifle and pointed. Her trigger finger pulled down heavily the second she saw the grey uniform and swastika arm band. The shot was louder than the roll of ammunition being fired by the enemy. Her first kill ever. The young man fell to his knees, blood streaming out his chest and spreading on his coat, then collapsed face forward onto the sidewalk. There was no time to asses her feelings, and another Nazi followed out the storefront's door, his war cry filling the air. She never once lowered her rifle. She rapidly fired two successive and the man went down as well, falling onto the body of his fellow fallen soldier with a padded thump.
"Into the store!" She commanded, her voice a roar. "Make your way cover to cover inside!"
"Grenade in!" Shouted a soldier behind her, and the projectile rolled into the doorway. It wasn't the strategic move she would have went with, but she understood why the soldier chose it. Carol hit the ground and covered her head, as the grenade ruptured the contents of the store front, blowing all the windows out, glass shards shattering all around. Now they wouldn't have to worry about the glass exploding on them, and they could fire from the windows if they found a good and safe angle.
The MG stopped.
"They're reloading! Now! Go now!" Carol informed her team, and she slipped quickly into the doorframe, crunching glass under her boots. But that was mistake number one. She was so eager to advance, she didn't sweep. She thought that all the Nazis were dead within from the grenade blast, but one was still kicking. He had been trying to drag himself over the bodies, away from the door, and he was halfway through the threshold of another room when Carol came in. Raising a pistol, he aimed and fired.
Carol shouted at the burn of the bullet breaking the skin of her left shoulder.
"Sir!" A fellow soldier had made it inside right as she was shot. Raising his Thompson, spit at least five rounds into the already dying man on the ground. "Sir, are you okay? You've been shot!"
"I'm okay! No, no! I'm okay!" Carol did not want to look at the injury, and knew that the serum was doing its job, as no pain made it to her nervous system just yet. But she was scared. How bad was it? Was she going to make it out? Or was she gonna bleed out? Had it hit a major artery? "We keep pushing!"
"Yes, sir! Everyone, move in! Move in!" the soldier urged his others to follow through and soon man by man, panicked, ran inside, and just in time too, because the MG had resumed fire and all the soldiers dropped into a crouch, a stream of rounds littering lines of holes into the walls.
Carol counted those inside with her. Her heartrate calmed just a bit, everyone was still accounted for. But where was Rogers? Tuning her ears with sharp determination, she could hear him still giving commands to fire onto the MG gunner. The bullet storm moved from the walls to the remaining soldiers outside. She wanted to urge him to come in with her, bring his team- but she understood that he was giving them this chance to proceed up the building without fear of external gunfire.
"Up the stairs!" she commanded, "Fix bayonets! Clear each room. We need to make our way to the top! Perhaps we can get a better view of the tower sniper if they have one positioned. If not, we can at least pick off the MG gunner!"
"Yes, sir!" grunted her men in unison. She could tell the adrenaline was moving through their body as erratically as it was in hers, and it strangely comforted her. She felt they were all one. The men filed out of the room and swept the hallway that was at the back of the room. In a single file, they made their way cautiously up the stairwell. When they reached the second floor landing, their steps became lighter and slower. There were six doors in this hallway, and they were all closed.
"Two watch the stairwell. Four, post in the hallway- of these four, I want you to scan all the doors. The other five, come with me. We are going to clean room by room."
The soldiers nodded their understanding. Flexing her hands on her weapon once more, Carol removed a hand to grab the doorknob to the first room on their left. It was eerily quiet. Once the rotation of the handle was complete, Carol forced the door open and she and her men charged in. They swept the room rapidly. Not a single enemy in sight.
"Clear!" she shouted, her voice cracking. They swarmed out of the room in their tactical formation, making their way to the second room, which was also empty, then the third, then the fourth, and when they made it to the 6th, they all loosened their guard.
"No one's here…" muttered a young soldier in disbelief. He must have been fresh out of high school and just as thin as Rogers. She swore she saw his heart thumping underneath all his combat jacket.
"Let's continue to the third floor," Carol ordered with heavy breath. "It's not that high in comparison to a church tower, but it's the highest ground we have right now. It might help us take out the MG."
"Yes, sir!" There was a light tone in the voice of her soldiers, and she knew it was them feeling safe. Relief washing through them all.
"Don't let your guard down," she ordered.
The soldiers started to move, and her moral instincts panicked that she was not at the front. She needed to be leading her men, she wanted to be in the front for all sweeps, but there would be no point in stopping them only to put herself at the front. Slipping into the middle of the tactical line, she raised her rifle along with her men, scanning every inch of space that was revealed to them as they climbed the stairs.
Carol's mind clicked faster than her lips could act, and the command never left her throat- all the doors on this floor were open…
She wanted to shout "It's a trap!" But the Nazi's moved faster, and from behind turned over tables and wardrobes, Nazi soldiers perched their weapons immediately, and obeyed at the frantic cry of "Feuer frei!".
"Holy shit!" Shouted one of her men, and it became a chaotic spray of gunfire, the flashes of every muzzle in the room flickering with each round. She could hear bullets shredding the bodies of her men all around her. Those wounded took a knee, but continued to fire, doing what they could to steady their aim and ignore their wounds. A couple Nazis fell backwards with shattered skulls as her team took down those who exposed themselves from their cover for a second too long. But Carol had started to panic. In a matter of seconds, they would be slaughtered. She had to come up with something quick. Poisoned with adrenaline, she aimed down her sights and fired shot after shot, blowing chunks out of one man's shoulder, completely exploding the hand of another as her round came into contact with it, and collapsing the jaw of another as she shot him in the face from her standing point. Her M1 Garand pinged as the empty cartridge popped out of the top of the weapon stock. She reached for her ammo pouches, her hand trembling erratically as she tried to unbutton it.
"Fucking…. Fucking stop," she desperately commanded to her hands, feeling her panic reach new heights as her fingers danced around the button uselessly.
"Man down!" Shouted one soldier to her right.
"Man down!" Shouted another to her left.
Tears brimmed in Carol's eyes as she continued to yank at the stubborn pouch.
"Medic!" came the fragile cry of another.
"Fuck!" Carol screamed. She stopped fussing with her ammo belt and dropped her empty rifle, snatching a grenade off her gear pouch. Angrily she yanked the pin and tossed it into one room. Without waiting, she grabbed her second grenade- she had a total of three- and pulled this pin and hurled it into another.
"Granate!" shouted a Nazi from one of the rooms.
"Fucking use your grenades!" Carol cried. "Tyler, Yves, Ortega- throw your grenades into the surrounding rooms! Everyone else, provide covering fire. Suppress! Suppress! Suppress!"
Her men obeyed, and the wooden floor shook beneath their feet as each grenade went off into the randomly selected rooms. While this was happening, Carol was able to finally open her ammo pouch and load another cartridge into her rifle. Irresponsibly, she knowingly moved into a room that hadn't been hit with a grenade yet. A part of her knew it was an unwise move, but she was drunk of anger and the urge to protect. She couldn't stand to hear another soldier drop to the ground. Fuck these Nazis. Fuck them for doing this. For being so evil. For being so fucking annoying.
"Sir!" Cried the voice of a soldier. "Following the Lieutenant!" he notified the rest of the team that was still standing.
Carol boldly passed through the threshold of the room and aimed spectacularly, killing one Nazi with a shot to the stomach, then moved with smooth speed to the next, missing his core by shooting his elbow, which tore the limb right off the joint, blood splashing everywhere like a popped water balloon. Then she killed another, and another, and another, as Carol's heart beat with satisfaction. She could hear the rifle of the soldier who followed her in drum in her ear behind her as he took down each who tried to take her on. And then a bullet whizzed by her and made a sick thunk to her right. The groan her soldier made snapped her of her concentration.
"Son!" She shouted, turning to watch him sink against the wall. He ended in a sitting position and gazed, his arms limp at his side. It was the young one she noticed earlier. Was he dead? Was he weakened? Then the burning sensation she had felt at the floor level returned to her, as she was pushed back by one, two, three bullets, punching her left hip, a rib directly under her right breast, and the last through her left bicep. She swallowed, anticipating further pain, but nothing, except for that in her heart. She looked upon the Nazi who had shot her and the fallen soldier. He was the last one in the room. Her eyes burned with pure hatred, and she moved forward, her boots thumping into the floor underneath her, and the Nazi looked up from his kneeling position, trembling at the sight of her: blood gently streaming from four wounds, staining her uniform in brown blotches, yet she stood tall and powerful. There was the devil behind her eyes, and behind his, cowardice and awe. Wasting no time, yet spending all passion, she exclaimed a feral battle cry and raised her rifle, her bayonet tip shining in the rising sun coming in through the window, and plunged the blade into his chest.
The Nazi made a gurgling sound. She ripped it out of him, them puncture him with it again, and again, and again, and again. Tears brimmed in his eyes and blood spilled heavily out of his trembling lips. He then slid himself off her blade as he succumbed to death.
Heaving her chest deeply, she realized that the fire had ceased in the hallway. "Status?" was all she shouted as she moved to the windows.
"All clear! Two men killed, two men injured!" someone had reported from the hall.
Three and three, she corrected to herself. "I need two men to bring the wounded into this room, the two best sharpshooters we have to accompany me to the window, and the rest to watch the staircase!"
"Yes sir!" the men responded in a jumble. They did as they were told, and she heard the grumbling and groaning of the wounded being carried in, and the disheartening sound to the lifeless bodies being laid inside.
Two men reported by her side at the window.
"Sir!" baffled one of them. "Sir! You are severely injured! You must sit! We will grab the team medic!"
Thank god he is still alive, Carol noted. "I'm fine," she muttered. "You see Lt. Rogers' team? They are still taking MG fire. And look," she pointed out the window. "There are three of them dead in the street. The MG is unaware of us taking the building. I'm gonna take a shot at him, and I want the two of you to watch that," she pointed to the church tower further down the street. "If you see anything, even the slightest sun reflection, I want you to fire right at it, you here?"
"Sir, you need to sit down," the soldier continued.
"No!" Carol shouted, impatience surging from being affected by the fog of war. "I am going to kill this fucking MG and you are going to kill the sniper. Is that fucking understood, Corporal?"
His face blanched. "Yes, sir.
"Good." Carol turned back to the window and broke the pane with her bayonet. Manually triggering the weapon to spring out the cartridge, she reloaded it with a fresh and full one. She took a deep breath and exhale as she took aim. Closing one eyes, she hovered her sights over the gunner. She took a few more steady breaths before she was satisfied with her aim towards his helmet. She exhaled as she pulled the trigger, the thunder clasping in her right ear, and she grinned as she saw the Nazi gunner fall backwards, blood pooling from under his head as he lay dead on the ground.
"Rogers!" She shouted from the window. Down in the streets, Steve had looked up from the window. "Advance! The rest of my team are going to join you. I'm leaving a sharpshooter to take out the sniper when he shows his face!"
"Understood!" Rogers shouted back with what little chest he had to projected it over the fire fight. "Men! Advance! Quick! Find cover further up before they replace the MG gunner!"
Boom!
Carol shuddered in shock, smoke trailing up the muzzle of her soldier's rifle. Eyes wide, she simply stared at him for an explanation.
"Got him…" he smirked lightly.
Carol grinned. "Nicely done, Corporal… Barton. Keep an eye on the tower if they replace him."
"Yes, Lieutenant." He nodded. He began to move to a different window, and Carol approved- it was always best to constantly change your position as a sniper.
Carol turned around and looked around the room. With Barton watching the tower and considering her deaths and wounded, she had five men left, not counting herself. The wounded had all been decently patched up for what a field medic could provide.
"Who still feels they can fight?" she asked, hands on her hips after she had shouldered her rifle. She noticed the young soldier who got shot after following her in the room was groggily looking up at her from sitting on the floor. Him, and the other two wounded raised their hands weakly. Carol frowned. What good men. "Let's position you strategically in the room, put you boys in different corners. You are to remain sitting, but keep your pistol in hand and fire upon anyone who tries to enter this room. Protect Barton as he provides sniper coverage, okay?"
"Yes, sir," the bobbled their head. The knew she saw relief in their face.
"You got this, Private Parker?" Carol asked, standing above the young hero.
"Yes, Lt. Danvers. You can count on me."
"Good," she smiled for her men to see. They watched curiously. She knew positivity went a long way when it came to motivation. "We're doing great. You all really did well in the hallway. That was quite a challenge. I know we'll get the objective. You'll be all looked at when Captain Rambeau brings her medical team inside the village in a few hours."
"A few hours, sir?" Pvt. Peter asked hopefully.
"Oh yeah, no doubt," Carol answered with confidence. She didn't know if it was actually true, but maybe if she spoke it into existence, it would work, and the men just might fight with hope. "Alright, the rest of you, move out, we're joining Lt. Rogers."
When they rendezvoused with Rogers's team, both Barnes's and Rogg's teams were closing in on both sides, and anyone who tried to approach the MG or church tower was taken out quickly, thanks to Barton's sharpness. In fact, as they reached the street in front of the church, a Nazi had fallen out of the tower upon being shot and splattered himself on the cobble stone road. Nazis had posted themselves by the waist-high concrete encompassing wall, firing from this position.
"There's gotta be more inside," Carol whispered to Steve as the peered over a smoking car, which had previously been erupted by a grenade.
"Definitely," Steve breathed, his eyes scanning the fortification. He then briefly glanced at Bucky's formation towards the left. "I think we might be ready to storm. Well, once we take out the wall defenses. We got this, Danvers, I can feel it."
Carol could feel it too. This was it. They had made it close enough that soon a sniper in the tower would be no threat to them on the ground, and hopefully the Nazis had learned not to put anyone up in the tower anymore with Barton's effecting picking.
"I think we should toss one grenade behind the wall… if anyone has any left, and it will cause them to disperse or hit the ground. Once it explodes, me and a few men could charge in and sweep that section. We will draw the attention of the rest of the line, giving Major Rogg and Sergeant Barnes' formation a chance to shoot them while distracted."
"Okay," Steve considered, nodding his head. But then his jaw dropped as he took in Carol's state. "Danvers… you're…. you're not in good shape. If that's all your blood-"
"I'm fine," she retorted. She wasn't though. There was still no pain, but there was definitely lightheadedness and she was feeling unusually cold. But they were almost done! They were so close! She couldn't give up now! She turned on her toes to face her remaining men who were crouched behind her. Steve's men were crouched more dispersed behind other cars.
"Look," she said, "Who has anymore grenades?"
"I do, sir." Answered one, raising his hand as if in school.
"Good, I need you to chuck one behind the wall on my command, okay?" She could hear Steve briefing his team too. "Half of us are gonna charge upon its explosion- with half of Lt. Rogers's team. The other half is gonna provide covering fire, okay?"
"Yes, sir!" the chanted back. Carol nodded at their eagerness and then turned back to spectate the firefight. Rogg and Barnes were closing in, but there were less places of cover for them.
"Now!" Carol ordered, and the soldier chucked the grenade with a powerful arch, and it thumped into the grass behind the concrete gate of the church. The Nazis in its immediate vicinity shouted warnings to each other and split down the middle, diving for cover. Grass and dirt belched into the air from the explosion, and Carol and Steve took off, raising bayonets and battle cries, a portion of their men standing behind to suppress those who would stand back up again in defense.
Her heart plummeted as in slow motion she saw a grenade pass right by her head from the Nazi side. "Take cover!" She shouted, hoping her men would scatter quick enough. She heard it clack onto the stone road, and she heard the cries of men as it went live. But she kept moving, and she and Steve volleyed over the wall, awkwardly landing on their knees. Quickly propping herself on a knee, she moved her aim quickly down the field, pulling her trigger as quickly as she did in the store building. Some of the men she shot were also shot by others on her team at the same time, and before they knew it, Rogg's and Barnes's team came crushing in from the flanks.
"Damn good work, Lieutenants!" Major Rogg shouted with genuine impress, holding tightly to his Thompson. It made Carol feel proud to receive this recognition from such a high ranking officer. "Damn good work! I knew it! It just knew it- I said it this morning! Tonight, we drink to your victory!"
"Thank you, sir," Carol replied, swaying just a bit.
"Good grief!" Maj. Rogg commented. "Lt. Danvers, you are severely wounded! I refuse to let you into the church."
"But sir…" Carol murmured.
"No, absolutely not. I order you to command your men to set up a defensive perimeter. Sgt. Barnes and I will clean out the church with our men. The town is ours, you have succeeded tremendously. See to your medic and send a runner to Capt. Rambeau to establish a field hospital within one of these buildings."
"Yes, sir," she said lightly, feeling overwhelmingly weak.
Major Rogg then waved his team to follow him. "Into the church, men! Let's exterminate these pests!"
"Lt. Rogers!" Shouted Bucky as he jogged with his formation towards the church entrance, "Outstanding job! Outstanding!" his smile was wide and his eyes were bright. "I knew you could do it!"
Steve bashfully waived off the compliment but couldn't stop his smile. Carol and Steve watched the two, still hearty, formations storm the church and heard the chaos of automatic weapons go off without synchronization.
"Alright, Danvers, let's go get you that medic." Steve said, hands on his hips, and turned to Carol. "Danvers? Danvers!"
With one last unstable wobble, Carol's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she crashed onto the ground, unconscious.
"Carl!"
Carol's eyes fluttered at the beckoning.
"Carl! Come on Lt. Danvers, I know you're in there! Wake up!"
Carol's eyes opened weakly and saw Maria looking down at her. How much time had passed?
"Oh, thank god," Maria muttered under her breath. "There's the big hero," she tried to smile. "Listen, I'm gonna treat you for four bullet wounds."
"Step away, Captain Rambeau!" came a familiar voice from some other side of the room. Carol weakly rolled her head to the right and saw Dr. Erskine rushing into the tent. "I will take over. He is my patient! I have papers here-"
Carol realized that enough time had passed if the doctor had finally arrived from his flight.
"No offense, this is a war zone, and I am the designated medical chief of this area. You can't tell me to not provide treatment to anyone." Maria answered, annoyed, tearing open Carol's combat jacket.
And then reality returned to Carol. She couldn't have Maria treat her. Dr. Erskine had to, no one should know that she was a woman!
"Maria," she whispered, and the Captain looked up at her, but her skilled hands continued their fidgeting to tug her shirt out of its tuck in her pants. "Maria, please,"
"What is it, Carl? I've got you, it's okay, I'm not letting you go. You're staying here with me, okay?"
"Maria, you can't…" Carol wasn't strong enough to think this hard, and this was a simple conversation.
Dr. Erskine stepped forward. "This is an order from Col. Phillips!" He shouted, one last desperate attempt. Maria took one glance at it, eyebrow raised in irritation, and then returned her attention to Carol. She pulled up some field scissors and cut at the bottom hem of the combat t-shirt. She just needed a few snips because then she reached for the parting halves and torn the shirt open in a powerful separating tug.
"Captain Rambeau!" Dr. Erskine shouted. "The Colonel will hear of this!"
"Hear of what? Me doing my job? His injuries are too severe for me to waste even a second. If you want to treat so bad, help, but I am not giving up on… him…" Maria's eyes surveyed the linen bonds on Carol's chest. She didn't have to remove them to make the connection. Carol felt light headed again and weak panic gushed back into her system.
"Captain…" the doctor said one more time, more of a whisper than an intimidation. But Maria didn't say anything, she just swallowed and reached for her gauze, tweezers, and stitching kit.
"Stay with me, Lt. Danvers…" she muttered finally, as she dug her tweezers into grab the bullet in Carol's rib.
"I…" Carol tried. "I can't…. I'm sorry. Don't. Don't tell."
And Carol returned to the darkness of unconscious, fearing that when she awoke, she would be greeted with a court martial.