People who met Leah often believed that she was much older than she actually was. Not that she looked old, with her dark hair cut in a short and practical style above an unlined face. She just had a presence about her that gave the impression of far more seriousness and experience than most people would expect from a woman of twenty-five. Those who got to know her discovered the reason why soon enough.

Like most mornings in the Cohen household Leah was the first to rise, silently making her way downstairs to get breakfast started. No one ever asked her to, it was just something that she had always done. With the hectic schedules of her family members it was one of the few times of the day where she could reliably get everyone to sit down for a meal together. So Leah made certain that there was always something waiting to keep them there for a little while at least. These days it seemed more important than ever.

Her father was the next person down as always. David Cohen was a successful doctor who held a position at one of the more prestigious hospitals in London. With that came long hours of work that kept him largely absent from his children's lives. He would take a seat at the table, glad to have the tea that Leah made sure was just the right temperature. They would talk about work while she cooked and they waited for the others to join them. Leah had followed her father into medicine, though as a nurse rather than a doctor, working long hours herself. Sometimes they would speak of shared colleagues or the latest developments that one or the other had heard about. No matter the subject the conversation was always lively.

When Leah's mother made her way downstairs they would quiet down. Suzanne Cohen was a woman of many causes which kept her as occupied as her husband. She always made sure to compliment Leah on whatever it was that she had chosen to cook that morning before taking over the direction of the conversation. As usual she informed them about what was going on in the philanthropic community that day, to which Leah and David listened politely while infrequently adding a comment of their own. There were two issues that had occupied almost all of Suzanne's time recently. The first was seeing that families of both returning and fallen soldiers were provided for, both things that were close to Leah's own heart. Today the conversation was largely about the second of her mother's passions, the caring for and resettlement of the European Jews that had survived the horrors that had been visited upon them by the Nazis. That always made Leah unsettled.

To Leah it was unthinkable that anyone could just stand there while atrocities were committed against their neighbours, much less to join in. As a Jew it also gave her great concern over whether it could ever happen in England. The people she worked with everyday, the neighbours who smiled and waved at her as she passed, would they one day turn their backs on her? Leah hated to consider such things. She much preferred to believe that people wanted to do good, at least until she saw evidence proving otherwise. From the things that she could see on the newsreels and hear on the radio there was an abundance of evidence that something had gone terribly wrong in the hearts of the Germans.

So it went for a while as Leah served up toast and eggs, waiting and hoping that the fourth member of the family would appear on her own. Carefully she steered the conversation towards less dire topics for when Deborah joined them. Yet the clock kept on ticking on the wall and her younger sister was still nowhere to be seen. Walking over to the bottom of the stairs Leah called up, "Deborah, breakfast is getting cold!"

No answer.

Turning to go back into the kitchen Leah saw her father placing his cup in the sink. He passed her apologetically. "I really must go get the car started dear. I'll need to drop your mother off before I head to the hospital. Have a good shift at work today."

The look he gave Leah said far more than he ever could. As much as she loved her father Leah knew that they shared the same flaw. Successful as they were outside of the house neither of them was capable of discussing how they really felt with each other. So when she saw the pain in his eyes, mixed with the sorrow that he could not express it, Leah hugged him and let him go. No matter how much she wanted to make him stay and face this with her.

Her mother followed closely behind, stopping to hug Leah before she had a chance to say anything. Suzanne carried the same pain though she expressed it differently. "I know that things have been difficult for you and your sister ever since we heard that...that news. Deborah has taken it so hard and I don't know what we would do if you weren't there for her. I'm so proud of you."

Leah returned her mother's hug and let her walk out the door. Inside she wanted to scream. All Leah needed was for someone to help her carry this burden and neither of her parents seemed capable. Family friends liked to joke that she had been a serious child that had grown into a serious woman but they did not realize the truth of it. She was more of a mother to her siblings than their own mother had ever been for any of them. Yet she could not bring herself to say a thing. This was just how it was and she would do what she had always been expected to do.

So Leah walked back into the kitchen and sat down at the table, around which there was five chairs in a house with four people, waiting for her sibling to come down for breakfast where it had once been siblings.

Four months now since the letter had come to tell them that Benjamin had died in France. That had been the event that had finally exposed the cracks in the Cohen family. Try as she might to understand everyone's pain, to rationalize her parent's evasiveness and her sister's anger, Leah had come to a conclusion that she could scarcely stomach. She had tried, she truly had, to hold everyone together. In the end she was only one person, one who had a life and ambitions of her own. As much as the realization hurt her Leah knew that the time to leave home had finally come. She had initially postponed any plans until the end of the war but with it seeming all but settled Leah had to get out if she was to retain her own sanity.

There was the familiar creaking of the stairs as Deborah finally came down. It was obvious that she had been waiting for their parents to depart. Watching her sister wordlessly come in and start to eat Leah wondered if there was even anything that she could say that would help.

People always said that they looked alike and it was true enough in a physical sense. Deborah tended to wear her hair much longer than Leah but otherwise they were very similar in height and appearance. Though looking at Deborah all that Leah could see was Benjamin. The two had been closer in age to each other than either was to Leah and had been constant companions. She had been their sombre minder while they shared their carefree laughter. Leah felt like she had lost a son rather than a little brother. For Deborah it was as if she had lost her only sibling. That created a gap between them that Leah was unsure that she was capable of crossing.

"Any progress in looking for work?" Was the best thing that Leah could come up with to ask. It still amazed her that Deborah was now as old as Leah herself had been at the start of the war. Up until the news about Benjamin had reached them Deborah had been eager to get out into the world, eager to make a difference like all of her family members. His death seemed to have taken away much of Deborah's own life.

"No."

As much as she wanted to press further Leah kept her silence. A cold dismissal was better than the fiery tirades that Deborah was all too capable of descending into. Finishing her plate she went to the sink, thinking on what else to say while washing up. To her surprise Deborah was the one to break the silence.

"Will you be home in time for supper?" There was a bit of hope in Deborah's question. Turning from the sink Leah could see her sister looking at her expectantly.

"I might be a little late depending on how the end of my shift goes," Leah could see Deborah's expression fall and quickly tried to recover. "But there is everything that you'll need to make soup in the pantry. I'll pick up a fresh loaf of bread on the way home and we can have it together."

That perked Deborah back up a bit. It was so hard to tell with her these days as her mood was prone to shifting quickly. At the very least she had been the one to approach this time. Maybe she was starting to come to terms with things. Leah began to rethink her earlier decision. How could she leave if Deborah still needed her?

"I can do that. Just," Deborah took a moment to clear her throat. "Just promise me that you won't forget?"

Walking over to her sister Leah wrapped her arms around Deborah's shoulders. "Don't you worry a bit. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

It might be tricky to keep that promise. Usually Leah was the one to take care of a lot of little things around the ward that all too often caused her to get home late. For her sister's sake she would have to entrust those duties to someone else for tonight.

Holding on to Deborah for a little while longer Leah planted a kiss on her sister's forehead just like she had always done years before. It seemed silly, Deborah was an adult now after all, but all that Leah could see before her was a little girl looking for reassurance. Leaving the last of the cleaning up for Deborah to finish Leah headed upstairs to change for work. Giving some of the housekeeping duties to her sister might be a good way to keep her occupied until she decided if she wanted to work or pursue further education. Hard as it was for Leah to let go of any of the things that she did in this case it seemed like it might be for the best.

Checking back in on Deborah before she left Leah found the girl dutifully scrubbing down the counters. It gave her some comfort as she went out and got onto her bicycle. Riding through the brisk winter air Leah felt a bit of hope for the first time in weeks. The war was nearly over and her family might just survive it intact. After everything that had happened that at least gave her something to hold onto. Maybe things would turn out all right after all.

"Katyusha provides!" The slight, dark haired woman proclaimed as she passed a handful of trinkets to the burly man in front of her. It was the usual type of stuff, a few rings and a good quality watch. All small valuable things that people might try to hide away or leave behind in their panic.

Maria did not know why everyone had taken to calling her Katyusha. Not matter how she thought about it she could not make the connection. She was a sniper, the whole point of which was being quiet and accurate. The rocket artillery was decidedly none of those things. Still it seemed to make people respect her so she was happy to play along.

The man in front of her was one who did not care about names in the slightest. All Stepan cared about were things he could actually touch, namely valuables and women. He was the pack leader of the mangier dogs around. Most men knew better than to try and touch a sniper even if she was a woman. Men felt vulnerable when they had to walk out to the latrines in the dark but when they towered over a woman whose rifle they could take away with little struggle, some might forget their fear. Better to make sure that none were tempted in the first place. Making herself invaluable to keeping Stepan's pockets full was one way that Maria made sure that those few men got the message. Even if they would risk taking a bullet from her not even the mangiest dog around would risk crossing him.

Stepan looked at what she had brought him before nodding and slipping it into one of his pockets. He would make sure that no one thought to bother her. From the muffled cries that were coming from the house behind him it sounded like his men had found some other sport.

Stupid Germans, Maria thought to herself. Did they not know to lay still and silent? She knew what this kind of man wanted, how they enjoyed the crying and screams. If you just lay there doing nothing they might hit you a few times to try and get a reaction but they would leave you alone in the end. Not that it was any of her business. Maria was a happy person and preferred to think about happy things. Thinking about those cries made her think about her past. A past which could not be changed and was so full of sadness that she tried to ignore it as best as she could.

Much the same could be said of the future for Maria. It was a frightening thing, one full of uncertainty. So she tried to ignore it the best that she could as well. That just left her the golden moments of the present.

All in all Maria had enjoyed the war so far, which was why unlike most she found little joy in the approaching end to the fighting. They were almost to Berlin now. Another month or so and the German menace would be no more. Until then Maria intended to enjoy things as much as she could.

Life was simpler out here. The enemy had bodies that you could put bullets into and take loot off of. Loot, that was the best part of it all. Everyone had something and everyone wanted something. Some men favoured valuables and others keepsakes. A whole web had developed along which men with one thing could trade with those who had another, all the while evading the watchful eyes of the commissars. Not that the watchful eyes were all that bad either so long as you knew which ones liked gifts. Maria was almost as skilled at finding things as she was at shooting people. So she carved out a little corner for herself in the web that kept her safe and happy. Much better than it had been back home. Try as you might it was hard to shoot hunger and its pockets were always empty.

That made Maria realize that it was time to check if the field kitchen might have finally decided to serve a midday meal. Sure enough as she approached a line had already formed. Spotting a few men she was friendly with Maria sidled up to them, flashing a toothy smile at a man behind them who spoke up in protest. That quieted him well enough. Why make an enemy of a mad sniper over saving a minute of standing in line? She could not figure out what Lev and Pyotr found so funny about the situation.

"Look at this, there is actually meat in this stew!" Lev held up his bowl after it had been filled. As usual it came with a piece of particularly firm bread, which may have actually been a soft rock, that was left to soak in the brown juices.

"I think it might be horse." Was Pyotr's observation, eyeing the meat suspiciously. He ate it all the same. A suspicious man about almost everything.

"Definitely not horse. Cow for sure." Maria added once she had been able to get a chunk of the tough meat into her mouth. It felt like leather but she was certain it was beef.

"How are you so sure?"

"Katyusha has eaten all kinds of meat! Cow, pig, chicken, horse, dog, kulak," Maria jostled Pyotr in the ribs as she snapped her teeth at him. "All kinds!"

"You're one crazy bitch Katyusha, just be thankful you can shoot that rifle straight." Pyotr took a step back to avoid being jabbed by Maria again. He was lucky she considered him a friend.

This was when Lev stepped in, separating the two of them for the moment. "Lets all settle down before before someone spills their stew."

Much as she would have liked to get another shot in at Pyotr Maria quieted down. One of the few paths into the future that she had spent time considering went straight through Lev. He was a good man who worked hard, was polite and did not drink too much. Unlike most men he actually seemed to like Maria even though he rolled his eyes at some of her antics. Over the last month Maria had taken to dropping little hints to him, pieces of bait to see if he would bite. So far there had only been nibbles but it was promising. A smart man, Lev wanted to get himself educated after the war. As far as husbands went Maria had seen much worse options. At least he would give her smart children.

"Drink?" Lev asked as he pulled a bottle out from inside his coat, passing it around their little circle.

Maria got the first swig. The taste of apples accompanied the burning sensation down her throat. Schnapps. How the Germans could stand to drink that piss she did not know. Taking a second gulp she gave the bottle to Pyotr. He just looked glad to have something to wash the taste of the stew from his mouth.

How many more moments like this would they get to enjoy together? They were just behind the front. This village had not been well defended but the Germans were holding on to every inch they could. Soon enough the big push would come. There was a risk that any or all of them could die then but that was the same as it had been for every push so far. Death was not so frightening to Maria as life could be. So she decided to take a more direct approach.

"Lev, you on watch tonight?" Maria asked, wrapping her arm around his side.

"No, no I am not." He replied. At first he looked a bit shocked but soon enough his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Pyotr let out a snort of laughter and left them, shaking his head as he went. Maria stuck her tongue out at his back. Some people just did not understand romance.

Even if she did not like to think about the future Maria was always looking for things that could make it a little less uncertain. Lev would make a fine foundation for the rest of her life. He might even like it too.

Patrick O'Connor considered himself a man of many talents. He was a big guy, tall, broad-shouldered and strong as an ox. Which came in handy for the frequent times that his big mouth decided to get carried away. Even his own mother would not have claimed that he was a smart man but his friends all agreed that he was clever. A bit too much so at times. Tonight though only one thing mattered. That he was lucky.

With a grin Patrick laid his cards down on the table. "Anyone beat a straight flush?"

The chorus of groans and swears that came as the other men at the table tossed their hands down was all the answer he needed. Complain as they might nobody took it too hard. Even though they all came from different backgrounds they were alike in the important ways. Every man here found himself thousands of miles from home, drinking cheap brandy and playing poker in some Frenchman's dining room, all because some jackass had decided to set Europe aflame again. What made it worse was that every time that it looked like things might finally be over the Germans found a way to drag it out a little longer. Even if Patrick was not the smartest man he considered himself smart enough to know when he was beat. For all their talk of superiority the Germans clearly were not.

"Anybody hear any more about what happened up north? Sounds like the Germans tried to break out again, dumb fuckers don't seem to learn." Al asked no one in particular as he waited for the next hand to be dealt. Almost as big a man as Patrick the former farmer was never one to mince his words. Patrick respected that enough to finally lay off with the hayseed jokes. Most of the time.

"They didn't just try, they were able to grab Strasbourg," That came from Steve, usually as good a source on information as any given that he worked in communications. Even indoors he was still wearing a jacket. The temperature difference from Texas to the French winter did not agree with him. "Bunch of weird shit getting reported too. Bulletproof soldiers, guys getting torn apart by light. Sounds like some people have gone loopy."

"Can we cut out the gloom and doom talk? The whole point of this is to forget that we are in the middle of a war, right?" Patrick said as he took a look at his cards. Not as good as the last hand but he could work with it. He was a practical kind of guy and all this talk of strangeness just annoyed him.

"Well then you heard any more about your brother?" Al asked Patrick, a smile forming. If there was one thing that all the guys found funny it was the stories that Patrick could pass along from home about his brother's trials in the Pacific.

It did not bother Patrick at all, hell he found the stories funny as everyone else. His younger brother Eamonn was almost the opposite of him in every way. Not as tall, and lanky rather than solid to boot, it had been a surprise to everyone in the family when he had decided to join up at the same time as Patrick. While Patrick respected his brother's decision what he heard from his mother was too good to not pass along.

"What more can I say about him? Last letter I got just said that he was still recovering from getting that sunburn on his hiney. If only we were so lucky to have those problems!" Patrick raised his cup.

"I'll drink to that!" Steve added and soon enough the whole table had given a toast to Eamonn's red ass.

So long as he did not look too closely Patrick could almost have thought he was playing cards with some of the guys down at the docks back home. That was all he really wanted, to finally get back to living his life. He would never admit it to anyone but the whole war had been hell on his nerves. Even if he was a tough guy Patrick valued his life. Never knowing if tomorrow would be your unlucky day was something he would be glad to leave behind. Though from the sounds of things as the game went on it looked more and more like they would be deployed to help stop this new German push in its tracks. Right when he had started to relax.

"Fellas, as much as I would love to stay here and take more of your money I have to call it a night." Patrick got up from his seat as he put his winnings into his pockets.

"Ah, you guys hear that? Guess we aren't as good of company as O'Connor's lady friend!" Al piped up, making mock kisses at Patrick.

"Knock it off, she's a classy lady."

"Usually classy ladies don't ask for the money up front."

"I don't know about back in Podunk but where I come from, nothing is free." Patrick gave a mock bow as he left the room.

Outside it was a chilly night. Not as bad as it could get in upstate New York in the winter but still pretty cold. The family had managed to get out there for a little vacation a few times. Patrick had heard that the skiing in the Alps was supposed to be great, maybe he would get to enjoy that himself before heading back home. Making his way through the streets of the town it did not take him long to find the house he was looking for. At least this town was in better shape than some of the others that they had passed. Only a few buildings on the outskirts were burned down.

A quick knock on the door and Patrick found himself whisked inside, face to face with Amelie. She had done up her hair and gotten made up for this. Certainly she was as attractive a woman as Patrick had ever seen.

"Mademoiselle," He said as he kissed her hand, pressing bills into it before letting go. More than the usual amount but that felt right. Reaching into his pocket he also brought out a few chocolate bars. "I figure your kids might like them."

"Thank you Patrick," Amelie said as she tucked away her payment. Her English was much better than that of most of the Frenchwomen he had met so far. All the same she played up her accent because she knew he liked it. "Though what has brought on this generosity?"

"We might be getting reassigned soon and I though you would like a little parting gift. Not to knock on your neighbours but they don't seem like a very friendly bunch."

"They think that I am a whore. Let them. At least my children have full bellies. But that is not anything for you to worry about. If this is going to be our last meeting I will make sure that you remember it." Amelie lead him by the hand into her bedroom.

True to her word Patrick quickly forgot about both her troubles and his own. The war could wait for tonight he was in good company.