Last Time: Rebecca and Dick get into an argument.
"Despite your best efforts, people are going to be hurt when it's time for them to be hurt." - Haruki Murakami
Now: Preparations for the patrol begin.
Chapter 31 - Pain
Dusk was beginning to fall on the town of Haguenau and it was getting colder. As Lewis Nixon walked towards Easy's officer's billets, the wet mud slowly started to freeze and crunch under his boots. He had a lot on his mind, the patrol was at the forefront up until he saw Dick come back to Battalion CP. He looked so shaken and upset and when Nix attempted to talk to his friend about it, he got silence in return.
Not knowing what to do, Nix decided to go and see Rebecca. Maybe she knew something about why Dick was so upset he locked himself in his quarters. Arriving at her door, Nixon knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again.
"Becca? It's me." Nix called out, hoping she was in her room.
The door opened a crack revealing a visibly upset Rebecca. Her eyes were puffy, accompanied by a face red, and a few stray tears rolled down her face.
"Jesus, you too? What's wrong?" asked Nix, concerned but also half-annoyed to be out of the loop.
Rebecca opened the door, let Lew inside, and sat on her bed. "Dick and I got into it pretty bad."
"He's pretty upset," Nix responded.
"Yeah, he should be," Rebecca countered, residual anger piercing her tone.
Taken aback by Rebecca's raise in ire, Nix gave her a confused look, prompting her to continue.
"We slept together in Paris."
Floored by the news, Nix sat down on her desk chair, speechless from feeling like he had a rug pulled out from underneath him.
"We both agreed we wouldn't pursue a relationship because of the repercussions but it just got too hard. When Dick found out I turned down a promotion from some Colonel in 326th medical, he went ballistic."
Rebecca watched Nix sit there as he took in all the information at once. He was stupefied.
"Nix?"
Idly wiping his face with his hands, Lew looked at Rebecca and then the floor, then back to Rebecca.
"I-I just, I can't believe it."
"We both had feelings for each other for a very long time," Rebecca added, tears welling in her eyes again.
"I figured, but I never knew either of you would act on it."
"Neither did I." She admitted, breaking down.
Hating to see her in so much pain, Nix stood up and embraced Rebecca. He hadn't seen her this upset since Bastogne. The poor woman had been through so much and now she had to deal with heartache on top of it.
"Dick just wants to protect you," Nix told Rebecca as he held her close.
"I know, but I thought he would understand why I couldn't leave Easy now."
"He does understand, but I don't think he ever planned on feeling this way about you. I couldn't imagine having the person I love in a war."
Pulling away from Nix, Rebecca wiped her tears away. "What are we supposed to do now?"
"Just be patient. The war won't go on forever."
XXX
2200 was quickly approaching and Rebecca's nerves were getting the best of her. Having to stay behind instead of going on the patrol, pained her. As if worrying about 2d Platoon wasn't enough, now she was fighting with Dick.
Writing a letter was the only distraction she could think of but even trying to put down all her thoughts and happenings on a piece of paper was difficult. Rebecca had received some passing letters from Michelle but nothing as of late and trying to respond to her proved too difficult for Rebecca. She just couldn't tell her everything that happened to Easy Company in the Bulge and her personal life. Rebecca felt it would be like dropping a bomb on her. She knew Michelle would want to know what was going on, but Rebecca just couldn't get into it now.
Frustrated, Rebecca put down her pen and got up from her desk. She needed to clear her mind and the only way she knew how was to check in on her guys.
The patrol rendezvoused in the basement of D Company's OP, preparing for the night ahead of them.
When Rebecca walked in, it was deathly quiet. They all knew the risks and tensions were high now that it seemed the war was beginning to end.
Scanning the room, Rebecca saw the men were preparing their weapons, others were covering their uniforms of any reflective objects, and others were trying to squeeze in a final meal before it was go-time.
"Captain," Martin said, approaching her, "What are you doing here?"
Taking her helmet off and placing it under her shoulder, Rebecca smoothed out her every-growing short locks. "I figured I'd stop by, see how everyone is doing. Everyone doing alright?"
"Yes, ma'am, we're all set."
Inwardly, Rebecca knew Martin was holding back. She wanted him to speak his truth. It was obvious no one was pleased about the patrol.
"Martin, you don't have to lie for my sake."
Martin glanced down and then at Rebecca again. "At this point in the war, when things are beginning to wind down, they feel like it's an unnecessary risk."
"I know, and I wish I could be there with you guys tonight."
"It means a lot to the guys that you volunteered to come along, but you should stay here."
In her mind, Rebecca cursed. She knew she should be on the patrol or at least on the other side of the embankment. Attempting to switch subjects, Rebecca glanced over at Lieutenant Jones.
"How's the new lieutenant?"
"Good, I guess," Martin replied, swatting away the question with nonchalance.
Rebecca wanted to know for herself.
"Martin, be safe tonight." She pleaded, gripping his shoulder.
Martin nodded and walked back over to his seat, continuing his preparation for the night's activities.
"Lieutenant, how are you?" asked Rebecca as she walked over to him.
The way the green lieutenant snapped up from his seat and saluted Rebecca with so much fervor made her chuckle. She couldn't even think of the last time someone treated her with such pleasantries.
"Lieutenant Jones, you don't have to do that," Rebecca laughed. "I would prefer you to treat me like the company nurse. It makes no difference to me."
Wilting to his lax superior, Jones sunk back down on his crate. "Sorry, ma'am."
"Please, call me Becca."
"Sorry, ma-Becca," Jones awkwardly corrected himself.
Just by the looks of him, Rebecca could tell Jones was nervous. The way he was taking apart his rifle and checking it appeared to be just another go-around of the numerous checks before. He was just keeping his hands busy at that point.
"So, are you prepared for tonight?"
"Yes," He replied, looking up from his work, "I'll be in the rear providing covering fire. I'm not leading the patrol, only observing."
His disappointment was apparent.
"That's probably for the best. I know you're eager to prove yourself, but that'll come in time."
Jones looked insecure, unsure of himself, and Rebecca could see the wheels of doubt turning in his head. The kid was a fish out of water.
"I think you've already shown what kind of officer you are just by volunteering in the first place," Rebecca said, in consolation.
"You think?"
"Absolutely. Loyalty goes a long way with these fellas. Back when we were training at Toccoa, I was treated like the company pariah. But, once we got into combat and we all experienced the fear of death, it created a tightly knit bond in between all of us. Combat puts everything into perspective."
Rebecca couldn't believe how far she'd grown since her Toccoa days. Hell, she couldn't believe how far Easy as a whole had changed.
"Is that why Pvt. Webster is having such a hard time?"
"Probably," Rebecca guessed, her mind going back to Bastogne. "He missed a lot in Bastogne. Easy was at its lowest and drew a lot of us closer together. A lot of guys didn't make it, Toccoa men, killed or otherwise. I think many of them resent Webster for not being there with us."
Silence befell the two when the distant sound of a mortar shook the basement, causing specks from the dirt ceiling to crumble on them both. It startled Lieutenant Jones, but Rebecca remained firm. The sounds of isolated explosions in a warm basement was a blessing compared to the hell-fire of having a mortar round go off right next to her in the middle of the frigid woods.
"Do you think it'll change for him?"
"I think Webster volunteering for this patrol was a wise choice on his part. The guys just need time. Pretty soon, they'll warm up to him again."
Jones pensively looked at his boots. "He is one of them, after all."
"So are you, just you see," Rebecca assured Jones.
Satisfied with her talk with Jones, Rebecca departed from the basement praying that everyone would make it through alright. They had to, they just had to.
XXX
"Captain Clark, Captain Clark!"
The absolute daylights were scared out of Rebecca as someone jostled her awake. She darted up from bed before she even had a chance to let her eyes adjust to see whoever it was.
"What, what?" Rebecca cried out, her eyesight finally recognizing who roused her.
"Jackson, Private Jackson's been hit, and he's not doing well," Martin pleaded.
Gaining control over herself, Rebecca grabbed her bag and rushed out with Martin, only in her OD pants and a tank top. Running towards the basement, Rebecca didn't even notice the cold air hitting her arms as she sprinted forward.
As they bounded in the door Rebecca had only a few moments to take in the chaos before her. Too many bodies were crammed into the small basement accompanied deafening shouts from the men and their prisoners. Gene stood next to Jackson who was on a small table screaming and writhing in agony. Rebecca hurried over to Roe to see the damage.
"Alright, Jackson, take it easy, okay," Gene beseeched, trying to calm Jackson down.
Tears welled up in Jackson's eyes as he choked on his blood.
Rebecca could only watch as she saw Roe listen for obstruction in Jackson's airways and begin to examine his pupils for brain damage. She felt helpless.
"Light, I need some light, gimme some light!" Roe directed.
Sisk whipped out his lighter for Roe to use to check Jackson's pupils. "Alright, look at the flame. Jackson, look at the flame." He cooed, attempting to get the poor kid to settle down.
A bottled up wail escaped from Jackson's lips as Gene looked into his eyes. Rebecca inched forward to look as well and both shared a knowing look.
"Alright, let's get him out of here," Gene prompted.
The two of them struggled to move Jackson onto a gurney. "You guys, come on, help the docs move him!" someone begged.
Just as Jackson was beginning to be moved, his pleads and cries began.
"I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die!" Jackson sobbed out to the room.
Everyone who was there tried to get Jackson to relax but he was beyond talking to as shock continued to set in over him.
"I don't wanna die!"
The squad of men and Rebecca only took a few steps before a mortar blast caused them to stumble to the floor. Jackson met the floor with a loud whimper. "I don't wanna die!"
On his stretcher, he began convulsing and choking as if he was having a seizure. Rebecca sat him up trying to calm the frightened Private.
"Jackson!" Gene yelled, trying to get his attention.
"God, oh my God," Jackson begged as he spazzed on the stretcher.
"Jackson, you're not gonna die! You're not gonna die, we need you to hang on!"
Gurgling on his blood, Jackson carried on, convulsing.
"Jackson!" Rebecca desperately called out.
Jackson let out one last choke and then stopped moving. The sounds of mortar rounds that were going off all the while, all of sudden became clearer as the young Private's eyes rolled in the back of his head.
Rebecca was stunned. Gene fell back on his heels, took off his helmet, and gave a glance to Babe; Jackson was dead. Babe looked back at his friends, disbelief etched on his face.
The room fell deathly quiet except for the explosions outside.
Martin who donned a contemptuous look snatched a blanket off of Skinny and placed it over Jackson. The 20-year-old who lied about his age at 16 to join the Airborne was just one more casualty in a war that was supposed to be all but over.
- End Chapter -
A/N: I'm so sorry for not posting in so long, I can't tell you how grateful I am for all the support. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, more is to come!
