Hi All,

As always, thank you for your messages, reviews, new readers and new followers. *big hug for you ^_^*

As usual, this chapter is un-beta-ed and since English is not my first language, if you see any mistakes, please poke. I'll really appreciate it.

"Becca…got a minute?"

I looked up from my type writer and saw Joe Liebgott leaning at the door. "Sure, Joe. Have a seat. Let me finish this report, okay? The Colonel wants the report about General Tolsdorf's surrender this morning."

Joe nodded and took a seat in front of me "Yeah…I was there. Lip asked me to translate. Even though apparently that peacocking General could speak English fluently."

I finished my typing and separated the carbon copies into separated folders "So…what do you want to talk about?"

"It's about Tolsdorf's speech. I…um…"

I smiled "Major Winters told me about his speech. It's quite moving, wasn't it?"

He shrugged "More or less. I still hate them to the core, Bec. But…when I heard that speech, I realized that we had a lot in common. The brotherhood, the fucked up life in foxholes…they had it too."

"What they did is war crime, Joe. They will get trialed, I assure you. We'll make sure that this monstrosity won't happen again in the future. But…yeah…basically, they're soldiers who, like us, their job is to follow orders. What makes them different from us was that they're brainwashed enough so they're driven by intense hate or prejudice to follow those sick orders and forgetting their own humanity. For those who could separate what's right from wrong, were too afraid to refuse. I have to admit Hitler and Goebbels did a very good job in constructing Nazi propaganda strategies. They understand the psychology of the masses. They mixed traditional German values, the existing anti-Semitism, and socio-economic condition after the last Great War to a powerful mix of propaganda. They able to force their perspective and then legitimized the treatment to the Jewish people…As sick as it was, their strategy can be considered as a success."

Joe raised his eyebrow "Damn, girl…Are you sure you're taking History major not Psychology?"

I chuckled. "To fully understand an event in history, we have to see its historical context and also considering its psychological background."

"Jeez, Becca. You're much too smart for George."

I flicked a paperclip into his forehead. "Hey! Don't say that. George's smart, you know. He's good with machines. Even the Colonel said that. If he could go to college, I'm sure he'd be the brightest student."

Joe smirked "Love can make us blind. On the scale of 1 to 'I wrote Mrs. Rebecca Luz all over my diary and making kids with him as many as possible', how much do you love him?"

I vehemently refused to blush on that question. "Dumbass….I thought you want to talk about the Krauts."

"I already did. And you gave me that long-ass mix of History and Psychology lecture. My puny brain can't process that much. I bow in defeat." He winked.

"You're smart too Joe. And for your question…I don't care he's dropped out from high school. He did that to help his parents. It's just show me that he's a family man, Joe. I'm sure he won't let me down. I want…I want to grow old with him. Is that answering your question?"

"Well…that's…deep. But how about your family. Will they accept a man whose resumes are only a high school dropped-out, from Warwick, a lowly rank soldier and possibly damaged from war? George's my friend, Becca. I don't want him to get hurt either."

"I'm not expecting they will accept him right away. It's gonna be hard, for sure. But I know what I want. I know what I feel. I'll stand by George."

"Girl…remind me to not get in your way. I'm feeling sorry for your parent already." Joe grinned.

At the end of June, it's official that the 101st was to be redeployed to the Pacific sometime in August. General Taylor, Colonel Sink and Major Winters discharged and reassigned as many men as possible to other division so they didn't have to go to the Pacific.

The Colonel did all he can to reassign me too. I was planned to be reassigned as administrative staff in Military History Unit of the Adjutant's General Office in stateside. The AG Corps had to process nearly one-half million discharges in a month since the war in Europe has ended. And believe me, administrative tasks of millions of soldiers was a difficult mission.

In other words, the company was breaking up.

It's extremely upsetting.

Meanwhile, for the boys, close-order drill, calisthenics, road march, barracks inspection, military courtesy and discipline, dry run with the rifle, and firing on the range became the order of the day again.

I hardly met them. I missed them so much.

And afraid for them.

For George

The Pacific was brutal. The Japanese soldiers was more…sadist. I heard stories (and saw some gruesome pictures) about the captured and mutilated POW.

"Princess…it's my duty." George said one night in July, on a rare occasion we could meet in my billet.

"I don't want you to go to the Pacific. The war is different there."

"I know. There's no naked native girl feeding the flamingos with coconuts, for sure." He smiled sadly, as if remembering something. He sighed "But I don't have the privilege to choose, Becca. I'm just a grunt. My point wasn't enough to go home."

It's so hard not to cry.

"Becca…Princess…please…don't…I don't want to see you sad. Hey…you're warrior too, right? Like Athena and Boudicca. You understand our duty as soldier."

I do…I really do. I nodded sadly.

"When they will send you back to the state?" George asked after a while.

"Scheduled for flight in mid-August. Then go directly to Fort Jackson, South Carolina." I said.

"Do you know for how long?"

I shrugged "I don't know. Maybe until this war is over? Until the administrative works for all dispatched soldiers are finished perhaps. After that…I'll go back to Harvard. It's not like WACs had many options in the post-war world." I laughed bitterly. "the Army had no peacetime component for women."

"To be honest, I prefer you go back to Harvard than stay in the Army." George said "You're too smart for the Army, Becca. You can be a history teacher or researcher or maybe a Professor. You'll touch more people with your work."

I love him even more. I was really grateful that George was very supportive in my education and future career. Not all men at this time share the same vision. Most of them think that women should be stay at home, confined in the kitchen and bedroom.

"We'll talk about this when you come back from the Pacific Theatre, okay?" George looked like he wants to say something but I cut him "I know we can't make promises in war. But I know you'll do anything to come back to me."

"I will, Princess." George said, kissing my forehead.

"You still have the zippo I gave you? Don't you dare lose it, George." I asked

George nodded "I won't. You still have that chessboard?"

I nodded back.

"Then I'm looking forward for you to kick my ass in chess again." He wrapped his hand around my shoulder and then put my head in his shoulder. His other hand held my hand and his thumb make a circle in my wrist "Becca…if… if God willed…that I do come back to you…alive, that is…I…um…I want to meet your Dad."

I raised my head from his shoulder and frowned at him "My Dad?"

But my heart started to stutter in my chest.

Was this….was this what I think it was?

George smiled sheepishly "Yeah…I…um…I want to ask his permission…to…um…marry you. Is that okay?"

My reaction of that question probably the most unlady-like reaction ever. It involved squealing, sobbing, hyperventilating, turning into puddle of tears (and snot…eww...), and hugging George while chanting "Yes...yes...of course yes" over and over again. Yep…very much unlady-like.

"I know we're not officially engaged until I have your father blessing…but...I'm sorry I don't have anything for you right now, Becca. I don't want to give you Nazi jewelry for your engagement ring." George said. His face buried in my shoulder.

"It's…it's okay, George. I don't need their diamond. Oh God…I still can't believe this…you propose to me." I buried my face deeper in his chest, inhaled his scent as much as possible and kept it in my memory. It's allowed, godammit … We're engaged!

"Why you sound surprised I propose to you? It's me who supposed to surprised you accept it. A frog proposed a Princess and she accept. What's the odds?"

I pushed myself from his hug and nudge his chest with my finger "Don't you dare talk like that about yourself, George Luz. You're a fighter. You're smart. You're loyal. You're selfless. You won't let me down. You'll always make me laugh. You'll make me happy. I love you. And I know you love me. That's good enough for me to spend the rest of my life with you."

George's smile was warm "Thanks, Becca. Let's just hope your parents think the same."

"They'll see. I will make them see the real George Luz. My Jolly Old Saint Luz. My fiancé."

"Holy God" He sighed "I think I'll never get bored to hear that…I'm George Luz…Becca's fiancé."

And if we're kissing a little bit more passionately that night, it's nobody's business.

We're ENGAGED!

Paratroopers were gossiping like high school girls before Prom Night, as George always said. So not surprisingly, by the morning, the news of our engagement was known by the entire regiment. The Colonel congratulated us but not after gave George his 'intense eye contact heavy with judgement and threats of bodily-harm' that rivals Captain Speirs's Death Glare ™. George, to his credits, managed to survive the meeting with minimal psychological trauma, or so he said.

"I'll take that as practice before I meet your dad." George said, somewhat shakily after the meeting.

Joe offered his support by telling him a story about a father-in-law who killed his son-in-law and buried said son-in-law decimated body in five different states. It ended with Joe and George Fight Scene #153. Joe won the fight and Babe won the bet.

So July went by with the usual routines and, without we realized, it's already August. I heard hushed news from the high ups that the US government would take major action to end this war as soon as possible. I prayed it'd happen soon, so Easy wouldn't need to be sent to the Pacific.

One Tuesday morning, I headed to George's billet, bringing him breakfast. The boys had night exercise and they would need some extra protein other than Army-issued unidentified meat. As usual, George billeted with Frank, Joe, Davey, Babe and Eugene. They always ganged up like high school teens on road trip.

"Boys! You guys decent? I come bearing gift."

I heard flurries of activities behind the door and a muffled shout of "that's my last clean skivvies, blockhead!" that followed with a squeak of manly terror and a "Yeessh…if that's your clean one, I don't want to imagine the soiled one" before the door opened by Frank…while still brushing his teeth…as per usual.

"Morning, Frank. I brought Frankfurter and Sauerkraut."

"Bahzzat?" toothpaste spitting everywhere.

"I'm gonna assume you're asking 'what's that'. Frankfurter is a pork sausage. Sauerkraut is a…fermented cabbage."

Frank wrinkled his nose. "babage?" still with mouth full of toothpaste.

"Yes, Frank…cabbage. You guys need vitamin C. Just try it. You'll like it. Or you prefer got scurvy?"

"kay. Come on in then."

"That's very generous of you, Frank".

Frank just rolled his eyes.

Inside the room, George's in the middle of tinkering with some radio.

"Busy, Frog? I'm bringing breakfast. Where are Babe and Gene?"

"Nope. Just fix this radio for a nice old lady. Babe helped Gene looking for baseball bats and gloves for this afternoon game."

Right. Easy finally got a day off and the boys organized a baseball game in a makeshift diamond field. It's also to welcome Buck. He finished his rehab and wanted to meet the boys before he get back to the states.

I put the food on the table and then make a plate for George. I sat beside him, offering him a plate of frankfurter and sauerkraut. He nodded but still tinkering with his tool.

"Sorry, Princess…Just a sec….Aaannd…..done." He twisted a knob and the radio turned to live. He switched it off again and started to tidy up his tools.

"You're too good for him, Becca." Joe said from his bunk. He's reading some skin magazine shamelessly (or watching? Ogling?…because how many words were there in that kind of magazine that requires such intense concentration).

"Are you wearing your Eau de Asshole, Joe? You're just jealous. You only got pin up girls in those skin mags while I got the real one." George said. He then grabbed the plate from my hand and started to decimate the frankfurter and sauerkraut with gusto. He mumbled "Holy shit, this is delicious. Thanks, Princess."

"I have to admit these German skin mags are bolder than American mags." Joe said nonchalantly as if he's talking about something mundane. "The poses are quite good. The girls pretty. It's quite artsy, I think. General Tolsdorf had a good taste." He started to grab a plate and eat the frankfurter, but his eyes still glued on the magazine.

Davey sneered. "That's a very astute analysis, Joe."

"Did you or did you not bring one of these mags to the bathroom to do your business." Joe asked flatly.

Davey made a good rendition of overripe tomatoes. "I'm a healthy man with healthy urges." He snapped and stormed off the room.

George grinned "Dammit Joe. Do you really have to twist his skivvies in every opportunity?"

Joe shrugged "It's a sport. And look at that… more sauerkraut for me. I love sauerkraut."

George snickered "You're evil. Away with you, demon child! Go masturbate or something!" He mimicked swatting Joe with holy water.

"I already did today." Joe said, perfectly deadpanned. "Twice"

Frank snorted "Ah yeah…I forgot…you're Olympic-level masturbator. But still…do you fucking know the concept of too much information, shithead?!"

My stomach's hurt from laughing. "You guys are wicked." I managed.

George sighed dreamily "I had been called similar when I was a kid. Usually right before Dad grabbed me in the scruff and tossed me out of the house. Ah…memories."

His daydream was cut short when Eugene entered the room. He's holding a baseball bat, swinging it back and forth. "Liebgott," he said with his trademark clam voice. "Apologize to Webster or you'll out of my team for today's baseball game."

Joe sputtered "Not fair, Doc! And how do you know I'm the one who make him upset?"

Gene raised one eyebrow. "Fine. You're out. Web's in."

"But…but…"

And Gene ignored him in favor of walking away.

"Hah! You're gonna loose, buddy!" Frank snorted.

George offered his commiseration by patting Joe's shoulder. "There…there…here…eat your extra sauerkraut. At least you'll have a functional digestion system and thus, a great poop. Because nothing better than having a really good poop." George said solemnly, seemed not at all sorry for sharing his unwelcome pearl of wisdom.

Cue for Joe and George Fight Scene #154.

When Major Winters stopped the game and told us the news, no one believed it at first. We're gapping, brain still processing the news and looked at each other in disbelieve.

But the news was true.

On Tuesday, August 14 1945, 434 days after D-Day, President Truman received the surrender from the Japanese.

War's over.

We're going home.

Regardless of points, medals or wounds, each man in the 101st Airborne would be going home.

George would be going home.

The Colonel threw a celebration party that night, but he limited the alcohol to avoid incident like Chuck. Nobody complained. We're this close to home.

Captain Speirs's "Attention!" made everybody stop talking and The Colonel started his speech.

"Gents, it's been an honor to serve with you. You've been volunteered for an experimental unit and throw yourself headfirst in every single front line since D-Day. You have just made the change from the individualism of civilian life to the anonymity of mass military life. You have given up comfortable homes, highly paid positions, leisure. You have given the best years of your lives to the war. You have fulfilled your debt to democracy. Your country will be forever grateful for your service. I salute you." Then he lifted his glass and shout "Currahee!"

The boys shouted "Currahee!" and drank their beers. I could see their eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Then Major Winters took Colonel Sink's place. He took several deep breaths before he started to speak "Gents, for some of you, it's been three years since we first met in Toccoa. In those three years, we had seen more, endured more, and contributed more than most men can see, endure, or contribute in a lifetime. In those three years, there were times when we thought the Army was boring, unfeeling, and chicken and hated it. In those three years, we found combat to be ugliness, destruction, and death, and hated it. And in those three years, you have done anything, except letting down your buddies. We are trained killers, accustomed to carnage and quick, violent reactions. But we're also found in combat the closest brotherhood we ever knew. We found selflessness. We found we could love the other guy in our foxhole more than ourselves. Gentlemen, you are like a rock. Children of the Depression, fighters in the greatest war in history. And now, you will be the builders of the postwar world. It's been an honor to serve and fight with you."

I felt George's hand find my hand and hold it tight. I looked at his face and I could see his face was wet with tears like mine. He pressed his forehead to my hair and whispered "It's real, Princess. We're going home."

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