Joe's POV

September 14th, 1944

Aldbourne, England

"As you can see, this is called Operation Market Garden," Winters was debriefing us on the new mission we were about to go through with, all of us sitting together under a tent and seeing the marked map there behind himself, Buck, Nixon and a couple of the other officers. After I had my talk with Georgie and on how we were still going to try and make this work between us, I was still trying to stay positive about it, for her sake more than my own. I knew, somewhere within my own head and maybe I heart if I confessed it, that we were going to be together again and we were going to have a happy life. I knew I was an angry son of a bitch at times, but it didn't mean that I didn't care. I cared though it would be more of whom I was caring to, but I was.

Something I knew I had to work on I suppose.

"For airborne divisions, this one's bigger than Normandy. We're dropping in deep into occupied Holland. The Allied objective is to take this road between Eindhoven and Arnhem so the two British armored divisions can move up it. Our job is gonna be to liberate Eindhoven, stay there, and wait for the tanks," Winters kept going with the information, having me both follow along and think of Georgie again at the same time. Her face, how she looked when we talked that night back outside the bar and how we were trying to figure out this new thing we started, it was engraved into my brain and making my own heart ache.

She was tough, I knew she was tough from the moment I met her. But it wasn't a kind of tough that you would see in a typical soldier in order to prove one's self, her toughness was laced with her kindness and her need to help others and care for them. But maybe she wasn't tough enough for something like this.

God, why couldn't I have met her at a dance hall, somewhere other than here?

"The entire European advance has been put on hold for this operation. It's Montgomery's plan, we'll be under British command," Nixon was talking about, having me hear the great chorus of groans and mumbles from the other guys about us being under British command. I was feeling iffy about it too since none of us were really too keen about being all buddy-buddy with the Brits. It was more of an ego thing than anything.

"The good news is, if this works, these tanks will be heading into Germany. That could end the war and get us home by Christmas. Intelligence doesn't expect much opposition. They think the Krauts there are mostly kids and old men, we should surprise them," I inhaled my cigarette, thinking of home and how close were ew getting to be able to go home. I could imagine it, home back on the West Coast by Christmas and back with my mom and pop, along with my brothers and sister. It sounded so sweet and close enough for me taste as I exhaled the smoke through my almost closed lips. Since I was being so optimistic with Georgie, I had to try and make this a moment of optimism too. If I was going to get back home, then it would mean a future with Georgie.

Would she still want me?

"Say goodbye to England, I don't think they're gonna call this one off," Of course, I had to hear the dropped bomb of it all. It was too good to be true, knowing that I had no idea when I would get back to wherever she was. This was a major blow to my own stomach, but I had to sit there and say nothing, smoking away now all of the small bits of hope that I had for the both of us. It was still there, I could feel it and hold it within my fingers.

But I guess it was thinner than I hoped.

Georgie's POV

February 23rd, 1945

Buchenwald Concentration Camp

"Jesus, Kozloff, you're looking more like a skeleton these days," I had to eye Anthony then with a weary look now, seeing his own shiner on his face dimming down now as the days were going to and fro. Since his incident with the Captain, we haven't heard anything from him about wanting to escape or even wanted to try and make something else out of the spare parts in the mechanic's shed. It was like he was spooked in every trying something else for his own sake, made the others spooked too. But within that moment, sitting there in my cot and having my journal in hand and jotting down that day, Anthony was either really trying to push my buttons or just try to make small talk. Both thoughts were already having me on edge.

"Is that a compliment? Because if it is, it's never in your nature to give one since you rather have a root canal than have one of those coming out of your mouth," I explained to him, seeing him chuckle a bit as he a bit closer to my cot but not by much. My own eye that was blue and purple around the eye itself was looking a bit more on the softer green side now, less frightening and more of an actual bruise than anything.

"Never took ya as someone who can dish it out, I thought you were a lady?" He asked in a casual manner, clearly I knew something was up with him and I finally closed the journal and gave him a hard stare. I knew I changed too over my time in the camp, anyone could when they were a P.O.W.

"What do you want?" I asked him but in a blunt manner.

"I wanted to bring you up to speed on another little project I've been working on," He explained, having me raise an eyebrow to him for a bit of a second before I realized what he was talking about. It made me panic, both panic and almost angry at the same time since it didn't feel like he was going to learn anything from the last time this happened.

"You better not be talking about another radio," I warned him, almost throwing down my journal within the area of my cot and was about to get up when he placed a hand on my arm to stop me from getting anywhere.

"Nothing like that, swear to God I learned my lesson," he said to me now, seeing the anger that I was about to throw out at him and he gave me a nervous laugh, but the smile was still there. There was something else he was not telling, of course, there was. It had to be something that would make him more serious about it than anything, the stubborn man.

"What is it?" I asked him then in a huff. He then moved the hand that was on my arm away from me and then out in front of me, almost like an invitation really.

"Come with me."

There it was, small enough to not be seen, but big enough for me to see that there was progress behind it. I looked there with a couple of the others next to me, all of us huddling together for some warmth, including Nathan and Charles too since he got some of the men out there with me that were not on a working shift.

A Goddamn hole in the fence.

"You're out of your bloody mind," Nathan hissed at him as I was standing close enough to him to feel his shoulder and arm against my own.

"I'm going to have to agree with the English man on this one," Charles said in his husky tone, having all of us look to him now and seeing him eye Anthony too, "You're practically committing suited with something like this."

"I thought this through, I swear to you," Anthony explained in such a serious manner that it was almost chilling to hear, "The guards never ever come back though here when they of their rounds of patrol, not even at night. There's nothing from here out into the forest, not for miles which could probably mean that there has to be some kind of town nearby. If we can sneak out in the dead of night, even during one of their protocols with the new prisoners they have on the other side of the fence while they're distracted, then we can run until we find the nearest town,"

"A town that might be occupied with German soldiers?" Nathan asked him now in a hint of annoyance.

"No, an Allied town, or a liberated town, whatever that fuck you wanna call it!" Anthony hissed back at him and Nathan rolling his eyes in return.

"How do you suppose you'd find that one out?" Tim asked him in curiosity.

"Charles and Fraülen here know how to speak the language, right?" Anthony asked the group, having me look at him now in a bitter mood.

"You call me that again and I will punch you here and now in your nose, and I know which bone to break," I wanted him in a low tone since I hated that term being used against me, Anthony pointed to me now with a small grin on his face.

"You see? Even this place made our medic more fucking miserable! We need to get out of here soon or sell we're all going to be more than dead," Anthony explained to all of us now, my arms around me were getting tighter because of the cold wind and the feeling of hardly any food in my stomach that day.

"What you're asking for us to do, to follow this small little plan that you have, could get us all killed," Charles said to lay it out for him nice and thick. Anthony could see it, but then I saw Anthony suddenly look so serious and almost like he was about to blow a fuse now as he then pointed over to the barracks, in the same area of the camp.

"We're dying in here," It was the sentence that did shut us all up now, having it sink under all of us like we were about to drown and no longer breathe. He told the truth, the truth that none of us either wanted to voice or wanted to think about. This camp was going to murder us all, not just physically but also without our own souls too. If we weren't going to physically die and be buried here like prisoners, then they were going to try and break us and break our own spirits.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'll be damned if I die in here like a coward and not even try to get out of here," Anthony said in almost so much emotion waiting those gritted teeth that he was holding there, not wanting to be too loud about it now as we were still pretty close enough together. He had a unique way about himself that we all knew, and yet here he was telling us that he was not gong to die in there within those barbed wire walls and under all of that snow.

"What do we have to do?" We all looked over to see Timothy now, speaking up in almost a quiet meek of a tone now as I was giving him more a shock there on my own face.

"Tim…" I trailed off, already seeing the wheels within his own head moving.

"He's got a point, Georgiana. If there is a chance of us getting back to some kind of safe place, anywhere other than here, then we do have to take it. What do we have to lose?" He asked me in a short manner and I saw him looking so serious about it. He was getting what Anthony was talking about and he was getting in board with it. I was still thinking it was a suicidal move, that if one of us got caught then we would be shot in cold blood.

"If we are going to do this, then we all have to go along with it, leaving no one behind in case they have to be interrogated," Anthony explained some more to us now, having em already feel the pressure of what was going to come, the decision that was going to have to be made on me since I saw Nathan now nodding in agreement. Great, it was now going to be down between Charles and myself and I had no aide what Charles was thinking about.

"Georgie? Charles?" Anthony asked me now, Timothy and Nathan looking at the both of us now and having me think to myself. Either way, I was going to die and there was no real way out of this. I could die running from the camp and being shot, or I could die from making one more false move on the operation table. My life was literally held in the hands of fate and the devil, I don't know which one anymore.

"I'm not leaving with Georgiana," Charles said to him now in a smooth tone, having me look over at Charles now and see how collected he looked there.

"Charles…" I started, but he held up his hand to me before I could talk him out of it.

"I will not leave you here to suffer under their wrath without someone here to at least protect you from what they could do to you," He explained in a short tone to me, almost like he was lecturing me again, "You don't know what they are capable of if they get you alone in a room, and I'm not going to accept that for you, not for one moment."

He had a point, me being a female and a medic at their disposal, who knows what they were going to do to me if they had the chance and if the Captain turned his head away for a moment. I knew I had a different case or circumstance there within that camp, all because of my gender and it was more serious than what I bargained for. Charles saw it, and he was not going let me go out of his hands easily. This left me with absolutely no choice now.

"Well," I paused, looking away from Charles now and shrugging my shoulders in defeat, "I'm not going to let y'all run out of here and have no medic with you if you scare a knee or twist an ankle," I said to say it in a joke now as Nathan piped up.

"It's dangerous, love." He wanted me, but I shook my head at him.

"It's like what Anthony said, Nathaniel. We're all dead either way."

March 14th, 1945

Zell am See, Austria

Word was spreading throughout the town of the Pacific needing aid, and Easy was going to be sent there to help. Well, at least they were considering it, the officers were really considering handing the men over to the Pacific. Men were going to be sent home from here because of their points, another plan set in motion from the Army officials. If you had the points, you could get home without any questions asked.

Some of the men were excited about going home, others not so much. Being away from home for so long and only knowing the concepts of war, living and breathing the soldier life. What other life was there? The life that was once before was no longer a part of our system and our pattern. But to go back to where we once where, it seemed impossible and almost too much out of one's reach.

For me, I knew I was going home for certain.

After signing that document, basically forbidding em from talking about my experience in the camp, I was a bit off about everything around me and it was not going t be better. I was away from there, in a luxury town that was nestled away from the rest of the world like we were not even touched by the nightmares that were still forming, but the past was still haunting me and still making me feel the cold of the winter night air against my throat.

How long was this going to take?

I was walking down the street of the town there and I could see other members walking to and fro along the cobbled street and living the high life that were given to them all. The sun was once again up and beaming over the town and I could feel the sweat about to form on the back of my neck, almost like it was giving me a rash when I walked past the medical office that was on the street on my left, hearing a tap on the glass. I looked over, being greeted with a familiar smile there on the other side of the glass.

Doc.

"What'd ya think?" Doc asked me as he showed me around the office now and I looked around to see what he was showing me. The office itself was barely touched, a few things I could tell were taken here and there. The sunbeams streamed into the room now and the smell of old books and dust was invading my sense now as Doc was standing near the wall and looking to see my reaction.

"It's a good office," I voiced to him, wrapping my arms around myself a bit from another shiver that I felt down my spine, Doc grinning at me from my subtle reaction.

"That all you think about it?" He asked me, having me grin at him and chuckle a bit.

"Well, it's dusty, never good for a Doctor's office," I admitted to him, seeing in nod in agreement.

"That's what I was looking for," Doc voiced to me now with his low tone that make me roll my eyes. He then walked over to one of the bookshelves and grabbed one of the books closest to his eye range.

"You know German?" He asked me, having me raise an eyebrow to him and he then waved me off and then tapped the book, "I meant if you can read it."

"Not a whole lot, a few things here and there since I learned English before German," I explained, seeing him then walk over to hand me the book. I opened it, already knowing why he would ask me that question. The whole book was in German, from front to back and it made me already see the problem there.

"I figured you would want something to read to help you….you know," He paused there, having me look up from the book and see that he was struggling with what he wanted to tell me, about me being in the camps. He could tell, as well as the others by this point since I was with them for the past two months, that I was suffering and eating myself alive with the past memories. It wasn't fair for them to try and help me when this was my burden to uphold and to take care of. None of them deserved to help me, as horrid as it sounded.

"Help me cope," I added for him seeing him already looking a bit embarrassed about it now as I close the book in more of a huff than anything and really just wanted to throw it against the wall. It was starting t get to me, really get to me since it looked like Doc was now seeing me as a victim.

"I didn't mean it like that," Doc said in a softer tone, seeing that I was getting red in the face.

"Neither did the rest of the guys," I uttered out in annoyance as I threw the book onto the table there and I saw him rub his face in frustration. I needed to get out of the room, somewhere where no one else was and just be able to breathe again. I thought I was going along better, but I guess not now since the medic was now trying to analyze me.

"Georgie, wait a second…" Doc tried to stop me, but I whirled around at Doc with a glare in my eyes.

"Why am I the center of everyone's attention in this place, Doc?" I asked him in a bold manner, seeing him look a bit shaken up now since I was scolding him and this was a new side of me that he has never seen before, "Ever since I was given over to be with you guys for the time being, I'm some kind of poster child that went through some kind of trauma and the rest of you guys are convinced that I'm broken and in need of your Goddamn help! I'm an adult for God's sake, yet you all look at me like I'm a child that needs to hold someone's hand when she cried for two seconds!"

"That's not it at all," Doc tried again, but I waved him off.

"I'm sick of being the center of attention around here with you all, I don't want to have you guys see me as some kind of pathetic victim to a hate crime, let alone the Goddamn officers wanted to shut me up from what happened to me! Leave me the fuck alone!" I screamed at him now, seeing him now look like he went through an episode of shell shock, frozen there in front of me as I just clenched my fists at my side and slammed my eyes shut. I spewed it out on Doc, one of the kindest and caring ones in the company, and I made him the target for all my rage. It was not close to being fair, but neither was the men swooning all over me like I was the sister or something and seeing when I was going to cry again. It was suffocating me, their need to protect me, the things that happened to me in the camp, it was making me no longer sad but angry at the same time.

I fell to my knees, shaking a bit from the anger I was feeling and I heard some footsteps coming over to me now. I had to open my eyes, already seeing red from what just happened and feeling ti within my closed hands. Doc was standing over me now, reach over to the table where I threw the book down and grabbing it without looking away from me. He was in pain from what I told him, or yelled at him for that matter, but he stood still there with the book in his hands. What was he thinking about?

"Destroy this," he said to me in a low tone now, having me breathe in and out through my nose now and wonder what he was saying. He held it out to me now, kneeling in front of me and having the book between us now.

"What?" I asked

"This," He pointed to the book, his eyes still on me, "Represents everything that is making you hurt. That camp that already killed you, I want you to get rid of it." I was still lost as to what he was talking about and I looked down at the simple medical book that was there. Was he asking me to destroy a book? it didn't sound like him at all now as I looked back at him.

"Why?" said in a low manner.

"You need to get this anger out of it one way or another," He explained in his stern manner that I knew he would use when he would scold a soldier or a patient, "You are still suffering from what those German soldiers did to you in that camp, and you bottling it up is going to kill before you realize it. Destroy it, get it out of your system." He was wanted me to try and release my anger, both of medical reason and for him being my friend to help me. He wasn't going to let me slide anymore, not with how I was treated in that camp and how I had to survive with my own soul barely there anymore. This was the only way he knew that would help me.

I grabbed the book.

The both of us got up, having me grip the side of it with the strength I wanted to inflict out but never could. All of my woes, those cold nights thinking I was going to freeze to death, the times where my skin was caked in blood than in snow, the bruises I got from talking back or not doing something back. It was all coming back like an open freight train, and it was making me feel like the anger was about to swallow me whole. Doc moved out of the way just in time for me to launch the book into the wall, the crashing of the book hitting the concrete wall and then the floor boomed in the room and I was shaking then.

It was not enough.

I grabbed another book, ripping the papers in shreds and seeing them fly down from the air and then heaving that one into the bookshelf that was against the wall, walking over in two strides and throwing off from the shelves with anger and rage. I hated what they did to me, what they made me do along with the others who were there suffering with me. I hated that good men died, that I had to watch and they thought it was for sport.

I threw down all of the books I could get my hands on, screaming as I went and more crashing was heard in the room as I slammed the books into the glass pictures on the wall of degrees from the doctors who used to work there, my hands flipping the table as I roared the pain of the blood, all of the blood of my own and the innocent, was washing over me like a freight train now as glass was falling tot he floor. it literally sounded like someone was being murdered in the room, and Doc stood there in silence in the corner away from the harm.

"Jesus, what in the hell—" I heard a couple of people walking in on my rampage in the office, flipping another table and grabbing the leg of the table that was broken from the flipping, using it as a baseball bat and slamming it against the equipment there. I didn't know whether Doc silenced them or stopped them, but nothing else was heard but my screams and acts of anger. This was for the men that were shot and never made it out, for those who were recovering like me and couldn't find any other way to release their anger, and for those who had to sign that damn piece of paper to shut them up.

It was for all of us. I stopped in the middle of the room, the leg of the table still in hand and the papers were still floating down and hitting the floor like fallen snow. Books were ruined, the bookshelf was overthrown onto the floor with the two tables that were almost shredded to pieces and the millions of small shards of glass from the equipment hung there for me to see. The whole room looked like it was blown to pieces by a bomb, and yet it was all from me now as I sighed in relief and was still heaving in and out deep breaths of hate. This time, on the other hand, the hate that I had against Doc and the others, it was no longer boiling over but sighing in relief and simmering now. Doc was right: I did need this after all.

I stood there in the middle with the leg of the table, look over my shoulder with my skin in a thin sheet of sweat and my hair sticking to my head as I saw who it was that came in on my escalation. It was George Luz, Carwood Lipton, Ronald Spiers, and Bull, all of whom were dead quiet and looking at me with no judgment there. They might have guessed as I was on my rampage, they knew what I was doing and they said nothing but looked at me there. I no longer saw the pain and the "woe is me" looks that I thought I saw in the past, but looks of compassion and agreement in their eyes.

They agreed to: what happened to me was shit.