Hello again! ;)

Before the new chapter, I have to thank my best reviewers: bethrodrigues.77 ( I'm happy to hear that you're enjoying this story! Let's see what you'll think about the latest chapter... ;) ), AwesomeBlonde89 (I'm more than glad that you liked the last chapter :) But, I'll have to admit that being Easy's pilot won't be that simple for Jess. You'll soon find out why... I wish you a lovely day, too :) ) and Amanda (Hey, welcome back! :) I'm glad that you like Neve. Well, I have good news for you: she'll have her moments in the following chapters. But, until they come, I'll have to ask for a little more patience ;) )

Thank you very much for your support!

And now, without further delay... enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Band of Brothers. This is purely of entertainment. It is based on the HBO miniseries and no disrespect is meant towards the real men of Easy Company.

Chapter Eighteen: Hole, Sweet Hole

The Spitfire glided through the air with ease I had never seen before.

In the sky, with no traces of clouds and wind, there was nothing that could stop it. Well, except running out of fuel, of course. But, as its eliptic wings cut their way through the afternoon air, my heart jumped in excitement. I'd almost forgotten how wonderful it was just to lift off and rush high above the ground.

Slightly moving the control stick in my hand, I tilted the Spitfire on one side. And then I made it slowly turn to the right. For a few moments, I saw the vast green fields below me. To be honest, they were unusually quiet today.

However, that didn't mean that nobody was down there.

As I was straightening my bird, I spotted a large group of men treading across the grass. It took me just a second to find out that they were Dog, Fox and Easy Company. They were all alone in this place, with no Germans in sight.

Well, some good news might cheer the boys up. Descending a bit, I made my way back towards Carentan. It didn't last long when I reached the outskirts. Landing near the last row of houses, I jumped out of the cockpit and dashed towards one of the buildings.

Actually, I limped more than I ran. But, that wasn't important now, was it?

Passing through a gate, I got into somebody's small garden. That was when I saw Nixon, sitting next to a radio and smoking. The moment he saw me, he took his cigarette out and stood up.

"Did you see something interesting?"

I shook my head. "No, sir. The companies are the only ones out there."

With a barely visible smile, he took another drag from his cigarette. "Well, you better tell them that."

I knelt in front of the radio. But, as I was looking for the right frequency, I noticed that Nixon was shuffling his feet a little. Every time he did that, grass rustled under the soles of his boots.

"Don't worry, I'll keep my end of the bargain", I said, trying to somehow keep my face straight, "You'll get your whiskey soon enough, sir."

He gave me a slightly bewildered look. "What's with the 'sir' thing? We're colleagues now, you know."

I glanced over my shoulder. "Colleagues?"

„We are colleagues of some sort." He smiled good-naturedly. „I mean, we're still working together, aren't we? There's no need to complicate things. Just call me Nix."

"If you say so." Leaning closer to the radio, I said in a slightly louder voice: "Good day, Easy. This is Prichard. Radioman, are you there? Over."

After a moment of static, George's voice emerged from the radio:

"Hey, since when do you call me 'Radioman'? I thought that you like me..."

I heard somebody nudging him on the other side. He grunted and protested when the radio was taken from him. Soon after, I heard Winters's familiar voice:

"We hear you loud and clear, Prichard. Any news? Over."

"You're the only ones in the field. There's no danger around for now. Over."

"Copy that. Take a break, Miss. I'll see you in a few hours..."

All of a sudden, his voice broke off. And then, just a second later, a series of booms shattered the silence. With every sound, my heart sank further down. My hands begun trembling when somebody screamed on the other side.

"Sir!", I shouted in the radio, "Sir, what's going on?!"

Before Winters could answer, something happened. Whatever it was, it turned the voice and the blasts in the background into static. In that moment, I could have sworn that my heart plummeted to my heels.

"Shit..."

Pushing myself off the ground, I prepared to run for it. Meanwhile, Nixon turned around and looked at me in disbelief.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"What do you think, Nix?", I retorted.

He hardly managed to blink when I dashed back to my plane. With a mix of running, limping and panting, I reached it climbed into the cockpit.

I was more than terrified. But, I was also furious with myself. As Easy's air support, I should have noticed the danger. I should have warned them that something was coming their way. However, instead of that, I messed up – again.

Well, I couldn't mess up now. Biting my lip for the hundredth time, I turned on the engine. As soon as I did that, it woke up with a roar. Meanwhile, the propeller begun turning faster and faster.

Wrapping my fingers around the control stick, I took a deep breath. And then I led my bird towards the sky.

I rushed through the air as fast as I could. However, the passing minutes looked more like hours. Still gripping the control stick, I silently hoped that everybody would be alive when I get there.

I was just a few miles away from the companies, when I heard something. Frankly, it was somehow... strange. It seemed almost like rumbling. Although my Spitfire was quite loud, I could still hear that sound in the distance.

That was when I figured out something. The rumbling wasn't coming from below.

It was coming from the sky.

I bit my tongue and turned the plane sideways. And then I applied rudder, making the Spitfire turn in the air. A second later, something large stormed past me, soaring higher into the sky.

My jaw fell. Jesus Christ...

It was a Messerschmidt.

I had seen it on pictures and old photographs. I'd heard about it from dad's stories, when I was little. But, I never thought that I would see it up here, just like this. Just by seeing that German plane turning in the air made my blood freeze.

The sound of gunfire made me snap out of it. The Messerschmidt went down on me, sending a hail of bullets in my direction.

I had to move. Or I would be dead.

My Spitfire responded in an instant, turning above the ground. Escaping the rain of lead, I dashed through the sky. But, the infamous bird went after me, as its grayish propeller turned in unbelievable speed.

I swallowed hard. I had to get out of its range somehow. Tilting the control stick, I went towards the grass bellow.

Holy mackerel... I struggled not to panic as I watched the green field growing bigger and bigger in front of me. Ignoring my thumping heart, I waited a little more. And then I straightened the plane, making it glide just a few meters above the ground.

Unfortunately, the German plane flew after me. It rumbled straight down, ready to welcome me with a hundred bullet holes.

Oh, damn it! I had to shake him off my tail. But, how? I mean, I knew some tricks that Mike had taught me. However, those tricks were meant for the English countryside, not for a bloody aerial combat!

Well, it's better than nothing... I clenched my fist so hard, that my knuckles became white. Biting my lip again, I moved my plane to the right. After a few moments, I turned to the left, and then right again, zigzagging above the ground. This should probably help me avoid becoming a target.

But, the Messerschmidt didn't miss me.

I yelped when it fired at me again. Bullets tore their way from the plane's machine gun, chucking up mud and dirt all around me. I quickly moved my bird to the right, struggling to get away.

That was when the fire ceased.

Without any warning, the German plane flew above me and went towards the horizon. What was more strange, it wasn't going for Easy - nor the other companies. It was following a completely different route, which led far away from here. In just a few moments, it became a sheer silhouette in the distance.

Still gripping the control stick, I watched as the Messerschmidt quickly faded away. Jesus... I was a sitting duck here! Why didn't he just shoot me to smithereens?!

The answer came in almost an instant. That was the pilot's way to send me a message.

He had spared my life. But, the next time we meet, he won't do the same.

I was so terrified that I almost felt sick. Swallowing again, I tried to put myself together. Of all possible places, this was the worst one for bottling out.

The first thing I thought of were the chaps. I had to get back to them and check if the were all right. Yes, I should definitely do that. Slightly moving the control stick, I made the plane fly east - where I had last seen my company.

It didn't last long, when I spotted something. Thin, gray pillars of smoke were rising from the ground, not so far from here.

My stomach instantly coiled. Oh, God...

Trying not to think of the worst, I begun descending. It took me some time to touch the ground and eventually stop. The plane just stopped humming, when I peered out of my cockpit and looked outside.

Except for the smoke, which was rising behind a nearby hill, I couldn't see anything else. What was even worse, I didn't hear anyhing - except the noise that I was making. As I scrambled out of my seat, I shouted:

"GEORGE? WINTERS? GENE?"

I waited for some time. But, nobody answered.

Oh, bloody hell... Feeling my heart thump, I jumped out of the cockpit and landed on the grass. That was when someone shouted:

"What the hell are you doin' here?"

I almost jumped out of my skin. And then I saw a familiar face.

"Jesus, Liebgott!" I wasn't sure whether to hug him or smack him for scaring me. "A 'hello' would be nice, you know!"

My eyebrows raised by themselves when Bill appeared next to him. They both had their gear and faces smeared in mud.

"Are you guys okay?", I asked.

"Yeah, yeah... we got hit by a Kraut plane, but we're good." Bill suddenly frowned. "Oh, damn, don't tell me you went after it!"

"I had no idea there was a plane!" I placed a hand on my hip. "Anyway, it's my job to look after your backsides! How will I do that if I have to hide all the time?"

"Well, not by fighting, you..." Bill pursed his lips, giving up from the rest of the sentence. He quickly changed the subject. "What happened to the plane?"

"It flew away."

"And it gave ya quite a beating", Lieb added, staring at something behind me.

What's he talking about? Following his gaze, I slowly turned around.

That was when I saw the bullet holes.

There were a couple of them on the edge of the Spitfire's wing and one on the tail. I also noticed lots of scrapes. The once deep green surface of the wings was now riddled with silver lines.

I dug my fingernails deeply into my palms. A sight like that was worth more than a thousand words. What it said was more than clear – I would never be safe, not even in the sky.

Somewhere near me, I could hear Bill muttering:

"I don't care if Winters is a CO... I'm gonna kick his scrawny arse for this."

I looked over my shoulder. His dark eyebrows had furrowed, while anger burnt in his eyes like fire. This definitely didn't look good...

I grasped his muddy sleeve, just in case. "Bill, this isn't his fault..."

"Oh, yes it is!", he lashed out at me, "What was he thinkin', assigning you to be up there?!"

"If it hadn't been for Winters, Denham would've made me march with you! And what could I possibly do then? Eh?"

He didn't say anything. I took another deep breath, trying to calm myself down.

"By the way, where is Winters?", I asked, "Have you seen him?"

"Yeah. He's just behind the hill, with the rest of the boys." Lieb pointed behind his shoulder. "You should tell 'im what happened."

"I will." I quickly nodded. And then something came to my mind. "Maybe I should ask him to stay here for a while, too. That flying bastard might come back."

Lieb glanced into the sky. "I don't think he's gonna get back soon."

That made me frown again. "What do you mean?"

Before he could answer, something flashed in the sky. And then, after just a few seconds, thunder shook the ground below our feet.

XXX

Holy smoke, what I got myself into?

Bill hollered in the distance when another lightning split the sky in two. Lights had been flashing above us whole afternoon. They continued even when night fell, echoing every minute or so. Thank goodness, there hadn't been any sign of rain.

And there hadn't been any sign of the Messerschmidt.

"Yo leg is lookin' good."

Eugene continued examining my leg. With a flashlight in one hand, he touched my skin with the other. I winced when I saw a curved, reddish scar underneath his fingers. It spread all the way down my left thigh and over my knee. Although Gene had done his best to patch me up, that scar would stay there for good – and remind me of the mortar hit that I'd barely survived.

"It isn't that bad, Angel." Gene smiled good-naturedly. "You can show this to yo grandchildren, if they don't believe yo stories."

"If I live that long", I scoffed.

He didn't answer to that. Instead, he let the silence engulf us. As his eyebrows approached to each other, he looked somewhere up.

"Well, whaddya think of our new home?", he suddenly asked.

Pulling up my trousers, I looked around. As the rest of the chaps, Gene and I had received the luxury to spend the night in a hole in the ground. After the plane attack, all three companies had decided to entrench in the field. And that was about it.

I had to wince a little again. The bottom of our makeshift foxhole was covered in caked mud. A few roots were sticking out of the walls, poking my back. I carefully took one and broke it off.

"Well, it could use a carpet... and a small paint job." I chucked the root out of the hole, mustering a smile. "But, anyway, it's really nice. Hole, sweet hole!"

Eugene chuckled in the light. "Yeah, you can say that."

"So, are you chaps planning to do something?"

"Fo now, we'll sit here. If the Germans decide ta take the town back, we'll be waitin' fo them." Gene eventually shrugged. "Or at least that's the lieutenant's plan."

He leaned against the wall of the foxhole, trying to make himself more comfortable. And then he asked:

"How did yo report go? With the lieutenant, I mean."

"He wasn't happy to hear about the Messerschmidt shooting at me." My eyebrows furrowed as I recalled the look on his face. Yes, Winters definitely wasn't happy. "I had to promise him that I'd fly away at first light and get back to Carentan."

"That's smart of 'im. What you did today was brave. But, also a bit stupid..."

"Gene!"

He sniggered at me. Turning off the flashlight, he popped it back in his bag.

Meanwhile, I embraced myself. I hid my hands under my armpits, hoping that I'd keep them warm.

I didn't know why, but the weather seemed to have conspired against us. Unlike the nights before, this one was bitingly cold. The air was so chilly, that I could almost see my own breath. Everything looked like the beginning of winter, when the snow was just about to fall.

To tell you the truth, if I saw any snowflakes right now, I wouldn't be too surprised.

With a quiet sigh, I glanced at the sky above. I could hear the rest of the chaps chatting in the night. Somebody chuckled when the last thunder echoed in the distance. Judging by the voice, it must have been Joe.

"You're shakin'." Gene's voice broke the silence.

"What?" I tilted my head. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No..."

"Jess, I can see you. It ain't that dark." The dry mud crunched under his boots when he moved. "Now, get 'ere before you turn into a ice cube or somethin'."

An ice cube? Did he really say that? I quietly chuckled. That was when he gently pulled me into a hug, wrapping an arm around me.

I gave him a short glare. "Eugene..."

"We'll argue in the morning, Angel", he muttered.

Okay, maybe I was cold. And perhaps I was shaking a little. But, still...

Trying to keep the chills at bay, I lifted the collar of my jacket to my chin. After some hesitating, I rested my head on his shoulder.

For the next few minutes, we didn't say a single word to each other. We just lay there, huddled in the corner of our hole, trying to get warm again.

There was no safe place here, in Normandy. Since that Messerschmidt had showered my plane with bullets, I'd learnt my lesson. Danger would never give a warning. It could come from any direction, in any time.

However, in this moment, I didn't feel that way. As I was lying in Eugene's embrace, I wasn't scared at all. Actually, I couldn't remember the last time I had felt this safe.

While I was taking some warmth from him, the dark storm clouds moved above us. One of them revealed the silvery moon, which shed light on the French field. It didn't last long, until a few stars also appeared.

"This is so different", Eugene muttered under his breath.

I glanced at him. "What is?"

"The stars. They're in different places. And they're smaller, too." He slightly frowned again. "Back in Louisiana, they look like tiny candles that hang in the sky."

I tried to imagine that sight. Hand on heart, it made me smile a bit. "That must be beautiful."

"I'd like ta take you there, ta show you how they..." He trailed off without the smallest warning. Soon after, in a slightly lower voice, he added: "If you want."

"Well, one day... when all of this is over."

I had no idea how he did that in the dark, but Gene found my hand and grasped it. As always, his was warm, while mine was as cold as ice. His fingers slowly interlocked with mine, telling me that everything would be okay.

As the chatting outside the foxhole slowly faded, I my eyelids slowly slid down. I could already feel myself drifting into sleep. Eugene's hand slightly moved in mine, when a loud and harrowing scream burst out of the night:

"Medic! MEDIC!"

Cracking both eyes open, I sat bolt upright. My heart jumped all the way to my throat as I stared into the darkness. I knew exactly who was the owner of that voice.

It was Lieb.

To be continued...

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