A few hours later the unit reached a new camp, where it would rest for the night. The prisoners of war captured during the fight were taken away to the back, after it became clear that they really have said all they knew. At the end of the day the crew settled in for the night – with no clear orders, they were supposed to wait until dawn for further instructions. The directive was met with a nod of approval – it meant they had time for at least a quick wash and a supper before catching up on some sleep. When the sun came down, a strange peace blanketed the camp. Normally, the quiet would be broken by either the distant hum of bomber engines above or the low thumps of artillery explosions that also lit up the horizon. This time, Steve thought he might finally have a calm night on his hands.
That was, until he woke up at 2 AM from a particularly terrible nightmare. He glanced around, terrified still, but soon calmed down as he saw the silhouettes of his crewmates on the ground next to the tank. Suddenly, however, he heard a whiz growing louder and louder until it turned into an explosion somewhere to the left of him. Before he even fully registered what was happening, he heard Peggy's shout, raising above the explosions.
"Incoming! Inside! Now!"
Steve turned around and tried to start a sprint towards the tank. However, his legs seemed to have a mind of their own as he remained frozen in the spot. He felt sweat running down his spine and his hands started shaking again. Even before he thought of how bad he was scared for his life, he felt a pair of strong arms lift him up and throw him on top of the tank. The pain caused by his body being slammed against the metal seemed to have done the trick, as it started listening to him again. He lowered himself inside and closed the hatch, only now noting his severely elevated heartbeat and ragged breaths. He could feel the whole machine shake from the explosions, but soon felt it move forwards. Then, he saw Peggy's hand touch his shoulder.
"Steve, are you alright?" Peggy's said, her voice tinted with urgency.
He didn't answer immediately, but already felt his fear and anxiety subside a bit. He spoke after a few seconds, his voice hoarse and throaty.
"Yeah, yea, I'm OK."
"Sorry for throwing you so unceremoniously, but it seemed like you froze." Peggy continued.
"Like hell he did." Howard chimed in. "Krauts are bombarding us hard and he stood there like a statue."
"I'm sorry." Steve said.
"You have nothing to be sorry about." Peggy said, her tone full of confidence. "When I first found myself on the receiving end of an artillery strike I curled up in a ball. You'll get used to it soon enough."
"I do hope so." He answered, quieter than usual.
"Anything on the wireless, Ms. Carter?" Jarvis asked.
Peggy fumbled a bit with the receiver before listening in for a moment.
"Seems like there is a local counterattack going on 2 kilometres to the west…" she said, stopping to hear the message better. "Mostly infantry, but they say they saw tanks as well."
"I think we shouldn't move" Howard said "Thompson will skin us alive if we disobey an order."
"Howard, I do think that an oncoming German counterattack right on our doorstep is a fairly big concern that should be addressed, isn't it?" Peggy retorted, completely deadpan.
Howard did not answer that. Instead, he quickly drove to the road and turned westwards. After just a few moments they reached the front line, marked by a line of hastily dug out trenches. From her position Peggy saw that the fighting was still raging on, as evidenced by explosions kicking up dirt near the foxholes and the green and red tracer rounds cutting into the night. It was still fairly dark, but soon the whole area lit up in a white, chemical glow as a flare shot up the sky. It was then that everything became clear. The Germans were trying to punch through, but the assault seemed to have stalled – Peggy could see silhouettes on the ground trying to crawl forwards, stopping for a moment and then resuming their movements, some of them hiding behind the armored cars also trying to advance. She saw muzzle flashes from the machine guns coming from a hedgerow behind the advancing infantry and she could bet a few dollars that the barn behind the hedge shielded the mortar emplacements.
It was time to spring into action.
"Dugan, load HE. Mr. Jarvis, priority on the armoured cars, later on the muzzle flashes. Howard, slow forwards."
"Yes, ma'am" the three men answered, in unison. Steve gripped the machine gun tighter, and soon pressed the trigger, sending a long burst over the heads of the Germans. While it did not hit them, it made sure they would not try to stand up in the foreseeable future.
"Clear!" Dugan shouted.
"Fire!". The gun recoiled and Steve saw the armored car closer to his left explode into a fireball. Suddenly, the whole tank started to shake as a loud sound roared through it. It was as if someone started hitting the outside of the machine with a large sledgehammer. He readjusted the periscope to see that the second armored car was returning fire. A few seconds later, it also turned into a flaming wreck. Steve turned his attention to the hedgerow, spraying long bursts into it, guiding his shots as close to the muzzle flashes as possible. Soon enough, a part of the bush exploded, a fountain of dirt marking the spot where the shell landed. The enemy soldiers quickly caught wind of what was going on and started a hasty retreat towards the wooden barn. The ones still left on the field found themselves surrounded by the that finally found courage to move out of the foxholes and mount a counterattack.
"Press on, we need to push them back!" Peggy shouted, trying to muffle the sounds of gunfire and the roar of the engine with her voice.
"Shall I shoot at the barn, Ms. Carter?" Jarvis asked.
"Of course!" she retorted. "Load smoke for that one, Dugan."
"Smoke up!" he shouted, pushing the shell into the breech.
"Fire!" She saw the shell pierce the wooden wall and bury itself inside. Suddenly, the door opened and a few Germans rushed out, their whole bodies on fire. Their screams of pain somehow managed to trump the gunfire and explosions. Steve felt his stomach wrench and decided to take matters into his own hands. A few short bursts later, the screaming stopped and an eerie silence blanketed the area.
"Should have let them burn." Howard said, with slight disappointment in his voice.
Neither Steve nor any other crewmember responded to that statement.
"What you did, Carter, was irresponsible!"
It was already noon when Peggy found herself back in the hastily built command tent, facing Lieutenant Thompson alone. Of course she knew that her unplanned excursion out of the camp wouldn't go unnoticed for long. She was also preparing herself for the omission of her tank from the after-action report and the glory being assigned to someone else.
She also anticipated that Thompson would be mad at her. And he for sure was. His face was a shade redder than usual and his shouting was so loud Peggy bet it could be heard in London.
"With all due respect, sir…" she started, but stopped when she saw Thompson raise his hand.
"Stop, just stop with the excuses, Marge." he said. Peggy bit the inside of her cheek to hide the wince. "You think you can just not give a fuck about orders. That you are in the center of the world and you can simply ignore everything and everyone."
"That's not…"
"Shut up!" he shouted, before collecting himself and returning to his normal voice. "This is your last warning, Marge. One more disobedience and you're landing right in front of a court martial. Do you understand?"
Under her stiff upper lip demeanour, Peggy was fuming. This rookie gobshite has the balls to treat me like a pushover. she thought. She knew, however, that at that time any resistance was ultimately pointless – regardless of what she achieved last night, her fate now rested in the hand of a jealous and far too cocky Thompson, who would most likely see her either back in England or tied to a pole with a blindfold over her eyes, with a firing squad on the other side.
"Yes, sir." she said, her tone icy.
"Dismissed." he barked out.
She wasted no time in leaving the tent, stopping only to take a swig from the flask and light up a cigarette. She quickly went back to her tank, sitting down on her seat with a loud sigh. Inside was only Steve, busy cleaning his weapon.
"How bad was it?" Steve asked, concerned, looking up and behind.
"I'm still here and I haven't been arrested, demoted or shot, so not that bad." Peggy retorted, taking a large whiff and soon puffing the smoke out. "He did threaten me with a court martial if I disobey orders the next time. Nothing I can do about him being jealous of what we achieved last night, I guess." She ended that statement with a chuckle.
"Honestly, I'm amazed." Steve said. Peggy saw a mix of admiration and respect in his eyes. "I mean, you endure so much shit from the higher-ups and you still don't quit."
"I'm not in it for glory, medals or approval." Peggy said. "And, most importantly, I know my value. Anyone else's opinion doesn't really matter. It's their fault that they can't see me for whom I really am, but I expect to make them see."
"We're not that different, you know." Steve retorted. Seeing Peggy's raised eyebrow, he continued. "Everyone ignored me and looked down on me as well. They all thought I was a pushover. Weak, scrawny kid that is always in trouble because he doesn't know better. I guess I kind of proved them wrong, didn't I?" he ended, with a smirk.
"I guess so." Peggy retorted and nodded at the disassembled gun in front of Steve. "You want to finish that today or not?"
"Yes, sorry." he said, returning to the task at hand.
When he turned his head around, Peggy felt a smile creeping up her lips. Indeed, she suddenly felt that Steve indeed shared some experiences with her. She was a woman, so of course men looked down on her as "the weaker sex". Steve was a man, but his physical shape meant he was an easy target, just like she was. The thought of that bond between them suddenly made her warm in a place she thought had frozen over ages ago.
Her heart.