A/N: First, I want to thank every person that made it possible to get to 100 reviews. That's pretty amazing to me. I love the encouragement and support. I appreciate it more than you all know.
Second, since you have all been so darn fabulous, I give you a very long update to enjoy (hopefully), leading up to the 'big moment.'
Music by Billy Joel; Dooley Wilson (from a little film called, "Casablanca")
I do not own Band of Brothers.
XVIII. She's Always a Woman
And she only reveals
What she wants you to see
She hides like a child
But she's always a woman to me
White flags welcomed the 101st as they rolled through Berteschgarten, the former home of the Nazi leaders, the snowy Bavarian Alps looming dramatically in the background. There was a stillness to the place that made the Americans weary. It wasn't normal for them to experience calm moments, so they walked down the asphalt streets with their M-1s poised and ready to fire… just in case.
Cora was perched on the side of the jeep across form Harry, looking up at the tall Germanic edifices that crowded both sides of the road. She felt as though she were floating through a dream, swimming in a desolate and eerie sea. But when Nixon pulled up in front of the hotel and the giant red banners came into view, it became a sickening nightmare.
A bronze bust of Hitler stood proudly in the foyer. His sharp nose and stern expression has been sculpted perfectly and the artist had accurately portrayed the wide eyes, in which Cora saw fear. He had committed suicide only months earlier, after a large amount of his troops had surrendered and he was officially on the losing end of the war. He had taken the coward's way out, though Cora and Liebgott both agreed that either of them would have been glad to do it and save him the embarrassment of leaving his country in a time of pandemonium.
The clerk at the front desk trembled at the sight of the three officers that meandered through the lobby. He hurried to grab the guest book and escape with it, until Nixon stopped him. He waved the man away and began flipping through the pages. Cora went around the other side of the desk and peered over to see too.
"Why don't they keep a record of who hasn't stayed here? Wait, does that say Neville Chamberlain?" Cora said.
As Nixon and Cora read over the records of the hotel, Dick and Harry ventured into the dining room. Behind them was a loud clang of silverware as a waiter, who had been polishing, rushed out of the room. Harry went straight for the wooden box and flung the top open. His eyes grew wide with excitement as he started to remove his helmet.
"Kitty would love this," he said, glowing with the joy of his discovery.
Dick reached down and picked up a knife from the collection, admiring the crisp white handle and bright silver blade.
"How many brides get a wedding present from Hitler?" Harry asked, giggling.
"Well," Dick began with a smile, grabbing handfuls of forks and knives, "at least two… hopefully."
Harry stopped immediately and looked at Dick. "You're going to ask her?"
"I'm thinking about it."
"Thinking about what?" Cora said, followed by Speirs and More. Her hair bounced with each step she took and the sunlight illuminated the faultless side of her face.
Dick turned to her nonchalantly, trying to keep his heart inside his chest. "About whether or not I want those candles too," he lied.
Cora nodded and went to inspect the other side of the room with Speirs, picking at the little trinkets. More, with enthusiasm lighting up his dark eyes, asked permission to climb the mountain and go for the Eagle's Nest.
Hitler's retreat, glistening in the bright sun like a beacon, called to every member of Easy Company, with the word Currahee! coming in on the wind. Dick danced around the subject, giving Harry instructions for Fox Company and the others of 2nd Battalion before giving the final instructions for Easy… to go up the mountain and take over the sanctuary. Cora grinned and began to walk, alongside Speirs, out of the double doors.
"You're going with them?" Dick asked, observant of the sudden jaunt in her movements.
The corner of her red mouth twisted into a mischievous smirk and the deepest scar, a jagged line that ran from the side of her nose and across the apple of her cheek toward her earlobe, crashed into the fainter, silver ones. Dick found that since the wounds of the Bastogne pine had healed and the scabs had been replaced by clean streaks, Cora had become more confident and, to him, more beautiful. The scars made her seem wilder than before, less graceful than ever, and fully justified.
"Hi-ho Silver," she said coolly, but with a mocking undertone, and dashed out after the other boys.
&&&&&
The Eagle's Nest was cold… but not in a way that could be measured by temperature, although simply being there sent chills down Cora's spine. There wasn't a soul left in the place, only a body with a single gunshot through the head. And it was the combination of emptiness and gray walls that made her uneasy.
While More flipped through the Fuehrer's photo albums, Speirs inspected the dead Kraut, Grant and Popeye made sure the rest of the place was clear, and Malarkey and Cora each opened up a bottle of champagne. They toasted to everything in the room, to each individual situation they found themselves in… overlooking Germany from a Nazi hideout, drinking Hitler's booze, being alive. The fact that any of them had made it that far was astonishing… after all, they hadn't been sure if they were going to make it out of the plane on D-Day.
Later, Cora, Nix, Harry, and Speirs gathered on the concrete balcony, getting dizzy and lightheaded from the elevation and the alcohol. They attempted to play the "Name the Nazis" game, but were all losing horribly. Somehow, Himmler and Goering kept getting slurred together into a name that sounded like, "Himorling," at least when it was Cora's turn. Dick and Lipton, both laughing, walked out to find the officers in their drunken stupors.
"Hey there, Adolf!" Harry called from his wooden lounge chair. "Love your Eagle's Nest. I hope you don't mind, we made ourselves at home. Love what you've done with the place." He took a manly swig of champagne before trying to hand it off to Dick. "Come on," he urged. "Just so we can say we saw you do it."
Dick, with an amused indifference to Harry's suggestion, simply turned his attention to the piece of paper in his hands. "Listen up. Cora, that means you too. From Corps, just came in. Effective immediately. 'All troops stand fast on present positions…'"
Dick scanned the group. Harry straightened himself up in mock attention, trying his best to look serious. Nixon leaned further back, hands behind his head, and Speirs mumbled in response. Cora, who had reclined daintily in the chair, giggled vivaciously.
"Dick, look how fast I'm standing!" she said, waving her arm in the air.
They all burst into a carefree laughter, the bubbles of the champagne transforming their mannerisms.
"Wanna hear it? Hmm? Alright, here it goes… German Army's surrendered."
Everyone went silent. The only noise Cora could hear was the rejoicing of a Hallelujah choir that was going off inside her head. It was over… the war in Europe was over. Suddenly, she could smell the hot asphalt of the city streets and could taste the first bite of a Coney Island hot dog in the sumertime. She could hear the taxis zooming up and down those busy Manhattan streets she loved to visit. And she could practically see her father, welcoming her home with open arms. Home. We're going home.
Dick started for the exit, with Nix following close behind him, but stopped and turned back around quickly. He jogged toward Cora and stood next to her, where she sat in a daze. He leaned over her, placing his hands on both sides of the lounge chair to balance himself, and kissed her firmly on the lips. By the time she even registered what was happening, Dick had already ran off of the balcony and all was left was a cacophony of laughter and a flush of red on her cheeks.
"Goddamnit," Speirs mumbled. "Do you have any idea how much money I owe Nixon now?"
&&&&&
Cora had always heard that Austria was beautiful, but she had never quite believed it. Then, of course, the 101st got the chance to drive through countryside and she realized that she had never seen a sky that blue or trees that green in a long time. She had begged Dick to leave her in Germany, to let her live out the rest of her life in one of the plush beds that they had found upon further exploration of the Nazi hotel. The second their new temporary residence, a five-story lodge with unique crimson accents against bright white, came into view, though, she took back every good thing that she had said about the latter abode… it was trash compared their Austrian palace.
What made things even better for Cora was that the officers were now in charge of surrenders, meaning that the Krauts were forced to look her in the eye and give in. She usually found some sick pleasure in seeing them squirm, mostly because she knew she'd never forget how it felt to have a man take his last breath beneath her hands as he cried for his mother or how warm blood felt as it pulsed out of a bullet wound. She'd never forget the sight of her people: emaciated or dead, fenced in like wild animals, with their identities shorn away with their hair. She'd never forget the look on the faces of the women she saw in the Landsberg camp… daughters carrying their dying mothers, sisters mourning sisters, all sporting a string of numbers on their arms and glassy stares. Cora blamed the German military for so much of it. She didn't care that they were only following orders… as far as she was concerned, there was a line between what they had done and sadism; a line that had definitely been crossed.
"I'm so sorry about the wait, Colonel. Captain Larson is usually punctual," Dick fibbed, drumming his fingers against the desk. "I don't know what could be keeping her…"
"Her?" the Colonel interrupted in a thick German accent, still standing perfectly straight and rigid.
Cora rounded the corner jovially. Her skirt and jacket clung to her curves, revealing a feminine frame that would normally be hidden beneath the heavy uniform she was accustomed to wearing. Her lips and nails had been lacquered with matching shades of cherry red, or "Fascist red," as she liked to call it when she would get all dolled up for the German officers.
"I know I'm late. Sorry 'bout that. Major Winters, thanks for covering for me. You're fantastic. So, where are we?"
The nostrils of the Colonel's thin nose flared as Cora slid on top of the desk and began to swing her feet back and forth. "I believe you are supposed to instruct me on where to leave my men and my weapons, Captain."
Cora laughed. "Oh, that's right. Well then, have your boys collect all of your little weapons and deposit them at… where was it again? Oh, yeah, the school, the church and the airfield. If you could just do us that little favor, I'd appreciate it. Saves me the trouble of having to whine to my superior officer about sending our guys down there to enforce the rules. 'Cause you hate listening to me whine, don't you, Major?"
"I certainly do, Cora," Dick said, hoping that the smile he was suppressing didn't come out in his voice.
"Very well," the Colonel said. He reached into his holster and extended a gun out for Cora to take from him. She studied it carefully before returning her gaze to him. "Please accept this as my formal surrender, Captain. It is better than to lay it on the desk of a clerk."
Cora hopped off the desk and took the sidearm, feeling the strange sensation of cold shoot through her right hand.
"Why, thank you, Colonel. My children will cherish this souvenir just as much as I have cherished sharing this moment in time with you," she said, the fake gentility dripping from her tone like honey from a jar. "In fact, I think that I'll place it on the mantle when I get home. Right next to where I put the menorah during Hanukkah. Or maybe, I'll keep it in the china cabinet with the Seder plate… doesn't that just kill you?"
Cora saluted as Nixon and Harry ushered the Colonel out, just as a vein started to bulge in his neck. Dick watched as she grinned in triumph, her hands on her hips and her head held high in the air.
"You're feeling pretty proud of yourself right now, aren't you?" he said, leaning against the desk with his hands in his pockets.
She half-turned to him and smirked devilishly. "Good call."
&&&&&
The Pacific newsreel rolled on in the background as Cora sipped on a steaming cup of black coffee. It was almost difficult for her to watch as they showed the medics carrying the casualties away on stretchers. Look who's going to have a lot of work to do… The smoky room was packed with enlisted men and officers alike, all of whom were thinking the same thing. Whatever hopes they had of seeing home soon faded as soon as the lights flicked on.
It was true that some of them would have enough points to go home, the full 85, but others -- the ones whose only medals had been purple hearts -- were left behind, waiting for more news. Cora was one of them. Since her gunshot wound from Holland had never been reported, she wasn't eligible for the purple heart, and the things she had done as a surgeon was just part of her job description. And there definitely wasn't a medal for being a woman… technically, she should have been with the WAC like her sister.
What she had hoped, though, was that the lottery on the anniversary of D-Day would be her saving grace. Easy Company stood in their platoons, dressed in their class-A uniforms, with their M-1s either slung over their shoulders or at their sides. Cora stood next to Eugene and Talbert, the sun shining directly into her eyes. She listened carefully as Speirs began to call out the serial number of the lone, lucky solider that would be going back to the States, back to apple pie and baseball, liberty and freedom.
"Sergeant Darrell C. Powers," Speirs read from the tiny slip of paper he had retrieved from the helmet.
Easy Company cheered Shifty's name and a few patted him on the back. Cora grinned at him, although slightly sad that one of their best shots was leaving them to their own devices. She would miss him in Tokyo.
"General Taylor has also announced that the 101st Airborne Division will definitely be redeployed to the Pacific. So, beginning tomorrow, at 0600 hours, we will begin training to go to war."
Training to go to war… It was like Toccoa all over again.
&&&&&
Dick stared out at the lake, hearing (but not listening to) Harry and Nixon quip back and forth about points and Pennsylvania. He had made the decision about going to the Pacific, and now it was all he could think about. And, of course, how he was going to break the news to Cora. You must remember this. She'd try to get a transfer too, there was no doubt in his mind about that, but he couldn't let her. A kiss is still a kiss. He loved her too much.
"You didn't tell him?" Dick asked Nixon, upon hearing Harry's last statement.
"No," he said casually, "I couldn't get him to shut up."
"What? Tell me what?" Harry turned back and forth between Dick and Nixon, trying to get an answer out of either of them.
"Guts and Glory here applied for a transfer," Nixon said, exhaling smoke from his regal mouth.
"What?" Harry asked with bulging eyes.
Dick's gaze fell to his boots as he traced invisible circles on the wooden deck. "13th Airborne are heading out for the Pacific right away. If I'm going, I want to get it over with."
"Are you in on this too?" Harry asked, turning his head back to Nixon.
"I can't let him go by himself. He doesn't know where it is," he joked.
Harry gave a short laugh and then looked at Dick, who remained stoic and pensive, like always. "You're leaving the men?"
Dick squinted into the sunlight as his chest tightened. "They don't need me anymore," he said, bottling up a sigh. Admitting it was the first step.
Harry wracked his brain. "Okay, fair enough. But… wait. You're leaving Cora?"
Dick stopped breathing. It felt as though something cold had just been driven through him. A sigh is just a sigh. The blood whooshed in his ears and he felt almost queasy. The thought of not having her around killed him, made him question what he was doing. But Cora was… well, Cora. And he couldn't sit around and wait anymore while she decided what she wanted. The fundamental things apply.
"She doesn't need me either." As time goes by.
&&&&&
Cora knew Dick had a bit of a restless spirit. He always had to move, couldn't sit still. He had the whole "people to see, things to do" mentality down to an art. But he always decided to chase fate at the worst possible times.
She found out about his attempt to transfer through Colonel Sink, who had approached her in one of the hallways.
"Capt'n Larson, it's good to see you," he said, a hint of bourbon lingering on the air around him.
"You too, sir," she said, trying to think of dead puppies, famine… anything that wasn't funny.
"I'm surprised you're here right now. I figured you'd be in that meeting about that transfer."
Her brows furrowed together and her lips pursed. "What transfer, sir?"
"What do you mean, 'What transfer?'" Sink asked, conveying the same confused expression that Cora had. "The transfer that Major Winters and Capt'n Nixon applied for. I assumed that you'd be joining them. Hell, ya'll are practically the 'Three Musketeers.'"
Sink continued down the corridor toward his office, leaving Cora almost frozen, with the only movement being the sagging of her shoulders and the general wilting of her posture. And when two lovers woo, they still say 'I love you.' Her mouth hung open as she stared incredulously into the empty hall and she felt as if she had just been kicked in the stomach. On that you can rely. And she was sure that if someone could see inside of her mind, it would look strikingly similar to a scene from The Wizard of Oz… before the Technicolor set in. No matter what the future brings, as time goes by.
Cora chased down Nixon in a flustered frenzy, her eyes wild with confusion and grief. "Lewis Nixon, you've got some explaining to do!"
"About what, sugar plum?" he asked, lighting a cigarette.
Cora ripped it from his mouth and threw it to the ground. She punched in him the arm as hard as she could, but it only sent him back a step or two. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth lips, a dark shade of red, formed a thin line.
"I had a nice little chat with Sink today. I got to listen to him ramble on about some transfer that I've never heard of before in my life. You want to let me in on this little secret of yours?"
Nixon raised his right eyebrow and smirked. "Tell me something, Cora. Was it Sink you were talking to or Bourbon Bob? Because if it was the latter, you might want to be wary of the information you got."
Cora rolled her eyes. "Okay, so he was a little liquored up, but I know from plenty of personal experience that when people drink, they get chatty and chatty people don't have the ability to think before they speak. The truth always comes out. Now, tell me what the fuck that transfer is about."
Nixon rubbed the back of his neck and bit down on his bottom lip. He knew Dick wanted to tell her himself, but he figured since neither of them were going anywhere, it didn't matter too much who the news came from.
"Alright, look. If Dick asks, you didn't find out from me, okay? Sink told you all the dirty details, got it?"
Cora nodded and Nixon exhaled before delving into the story. He told her everything: how Dick was tired of sitting around and waiting to go, how all the Major wanted was a sign from her that would change his mind; how, because of all of his previous accomplishments, Dick was told that his men deserved to keep him around, and how he was also told that he had been through enough hell by leading the Army's first woman. Moonlight and love songs-- never out of date. Cora's gaze drifted through the room, never staying on one thing for too long. Hearts full of passion-- jealousy and hate. The dusty tornado in her head started up again and before she could really think her actions through, she was running…
Dick stood, barefoot, on the dirt path leading to the dock. He put his hands on his hips and looked out across the blue waters before him. Part of him was glad that he wasn't going with the 13th Airborne… he would have missed the serenity of Austria.
As he stretched, he inhaled deeply. The aroma of pines and nature filled his nose and, out of nowhere, so did a hint of cinnamon mixed with the velvety opulence of gardenia. Dick turned to see Cora coming toward him, out of breath. She stopped in front of him and bent forward, placing both hands on her knees. Beads of sweat had formed on her brow and across her heaving chest. Woman needs man, and man must have his mate. He went toward her, arms partially open to receive her, but she backed away instead.
"Cora, what's wrong? Did something happen?"
She finally caught her breath and stood up straight, head tipped back indignantly. That no one can deny. "No, no. Nothing's wrong, if, of course, you consider major life events nothing!"
Dick sighed and clenched his jaw tight. "I'm going to kill Nix…"
"Why? You should have told me in the first place! Besides, he isn't the person who told me about it. Sink did, okay? Nixon just gave me the details."
"Cora… I'm sor--"
"No, Dick," she said, cutting him off. "You listen to me. I'm so sick of this! First, you leave to take care of the Battalion, leaving us with Moose and Dike. Then, you became a Major, making things even more difficult. And now, you're trying to go jump on Japan without us, without me! It's unforgivable!" It's still the same old story.
"And I realize that you're not going, Nixon told me that too," she said as the tears started tumbling down her cheeks. A fight for love and glory. "But I just don't understand why you're always leaving. It feels like I have you for one minute, and the next, you're gone. And I hate it, Dick. I hate it because you're the one person in my life that I don't think I could live without."
Her tears fell more and more as Dick stood there, the words all running through his brain. He couldn't process it, couldn't understand what was happening. A case of do or die. Instead, he remained immobile and watched her with an unsure expression. War he could handle, but women made him a nervous wreck. He could feel a tightening in his chest that almost had him falling to his knees and practically crying right along with her.
A pair of dark blue eyes peered up at him, begging and pleading silently. "Why are you always trying to leave me? I just… I…"
"You what, Cora?" he asked, the wrinkle above his nose becoming deeper as she stalled.
There were things Cora didn't admit to a man first. There were certain rules she had about words she could and could not say before he did. But Dick was different. He wasn't going to fit into any of the molds she had dealt with before, which is probably why she was drawn to him in the first place. Cora had experience with many men, but not a single one even came close to being like Dick Winters. Admitting it was the first step…
"Dick, I… I love you."
He was silent for a moment, as only he could be, but then, with a gentle tenderness, closed the space between them and cradled her wet face in his hands.
"I've been waiting to hear you say that for three years," he whispered before slowly bending to meet her.
His mouth was pressed softly against hers when his eyes had slipped shut, and for once, Cora let him take the reins. She let out a small whimper as Dick eventually deepened the kiss and his began hands moved southward, from her slender neck to her waist, drawing her closer to him. Cora learned thoroughly that, even through all that he had seen and done, he still tasted of purity and virtue, of Bibles and fertile earth. She drank it in like wine. The man that surrounded her, invading every thought and feeling she had, was better than anything or anyone she had ever done in her whole life.
Suddenly, the kisses became less soft and more frantically hungry as each second passed. Dick groaned against Cora's mouth, a sound he simply could not help, as her hands slipped beneath his white shirt and ran over the pale skin of his chest. He worked his way down her jaw line and unto the soft skin of her throat. The world will always welcome lovers.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said as his teeth grazed her earlobe. "Never again."
As time goes by.
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