Chapter Text
There was a crisp bite to the morning air that hinted at the end of summer. Fresh dew cloaked the grass, cleaning my jump boots as I trekked across the field. The familiar weight of my M1 rifle rested comfortably in my hand as I headed towards the group that had gathered, waiting expectantly for our arrival.
"Morning," I huffed, dropping my gear bag onto the ground. It still startled me how quickly the replacements fell silent, their conversations evaporating the moment Bull or I appeared.
"We're starting with the obstacle course this morning. I'm leaving early, so Bull's leading the run today," I announced, nodding as Bull appeared beside me.
"Yes, ma'am." I winced slightly at their collective use of the word. I had hoped formality would have faded by now. I'd only just gotten Bull out of the habit. It made me feel old. Hell, I wasn't much older than the men standing at attention before me. Somehow, the divide felt larger than a year.
"Line up. Let's see if we can beat yesterday's time," I commanded, my voice firm yet imbued with a gentle undertone.
"I still don't like this," I sighed, gesturing to the ammunition Bull had casually dumped out of the bag. Captain Winters had smuggled it back from France and insisted we include it in training, as though it was perfectly normal to fire live rounds at our own men. Though in some ways, I was beginning to see his point.
"It's toughening them up. They're not half as green as they were a month ago," Bull chuckled, handing me a few clips. I loaded my gun absentmindedly, watching the replacements line up at the start.
"It would help if the guys trained with them. This divide isn't helping anyone," I muttered as we took our positions. It had been well over a month since the replacements arrived, yet the company seemed solidly split in two. Those who had seen action winced at the thought of running drills. We'd grown slightly arrogant in some ways. What more could they teach us? In other ways, we didn't want reminders of the war and what we'd soon be facing again.
The replacements, on the other hand, were eager for action. They dreamed of getting to the front lines and making a name for themselves. As the weeks wore on, we too were growing restless. The war hadn't ended when we'd pulled out. There were boys dying out there every day. Even the Brits were wondering why we weren't off fighting when their sons still sat in foxholes in France.
"You have a point," Bull conceded, starting the stopwatch. I pulled the trigger with care, aiming well above the netting they were crawling under. It went on that way for a while until I noticed a problem.
"Hold fire," I shouted towards Bull.
"Oy, we don't creep. A baby creeps; we crawl," Bull barked at the replacement I had spotted poking up through the netting. Once they ducked back down, we continued.
"It works better with pig guts."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I smirked.
"Sobel used to do it that way."
"Jeez, did he kill the pigs himself?"
"Nah, probably poor old Evans doing his dirty work."
"Well, let's leave that off the curriculum for now," I chuckled, halting my fire to assess the next issue.
"Come on, help him out," I yelled, watching as one of the men struggled to free his leg from the netting. "You don't leave men behind, you hear me?" My words drew some of the men back to help him.
"Look for perches," Bull advised as they reached the wall. We had both dropped our guns by this stage, a little thrown by how messy the display was getting.
"Don't drive the butt of your M1 into the ground. You wouldn't kill Germans shooting dirt at them," he continued, spotting another private further back struggling.
"Great, they're getting worse," I muttered under my breath, scanning the area to make sure Sink wasn't lurking around. He'd been surprisingly supportive of me lately, and I half-worried his temporary amnesty would wear off and he'd come barreling down the field to chew me out at any moment.
"Maybe we're being too nice."
"I ain't killing no pigs for you, Bull," I teased, drawing a laugh from him as he passed his cigar my way.
I took a draw, choking as I always did. "Still tastes like donkey ass."
"I wouldn't know; I've never eaten a donkey."
I sniggered, passing it back his way, watching as one of the privates pulled himself up the wall. He sat balancing on the top, offering his hand down to help the others up.
"Good job, Private," I smiled. Apparently, some of my wisdom was rubbing off on them.
It took them five minutes longer to run the course than usual, and as we reached the line, the reason became clear when one of the guys hurled the contents of his stomach onto the grass.
"Busy night?" I scoffed, raising an eyebrow at the disheveled men. I'd clearly been half asleep and slightly oblivious when I'd first seen them.
"You'll have a busier night tonight. I think a night march is in order," Bull said, shaking his head in amusement at their state. "Now run it again." I watched them groan, cursing us under their breaths as they marched towards the start.
"All this power going to your head, there, Bull."
"Can't let them off the hook so easy," he grinned.
"Hey sweetheart, is this really necessary? I swear a bullet nearly pinged me." I spun around, suddenly face to face with a cheeky smile. The voice sounded all too familiar. I'd half expected to see Bill.
"Where are you from?"
"Philly, you know it." He perked up the same way Bill did at the mere mention of home.
"Nah, just noting that you're going to be a pain in the ass," I smiled. "Get back in line, Private."
"What did I do?" he asked back in confusion.
"Come on, guys," Bull ordered. "Beat yesterday's time and we won't add grenades."
"Since when are we adding grenades?" I whispered to him.
"We weren't. But it sounds good."
The morning stretched on with each run of the obstacle course, until the monotony was finally shattered by the distinct rattle of a jeep bouncing along the cobblestone street.
"Oy, Half-pint!" Buck's voice rang out as the vehicle came into view, a cloud of dust swirling behind it as it veered off the road.
"Morning, Buck!" I called back, hastily gathering my gear from the ground. "Bull, make sure everyone's in the mess by lunchtime," I instructed, my tone brisk.
"You got it, Soph," he replied with a chuckle, clearly amused by my hurried behavior.
"Invite some of the replacements. Christ knows the rest of the guys need to make more of an effort with them," I added, spinning on my heel and slinging my duffel over my shoulder.
"I'll do my best," Bull nodded, acknowledging Buck with a brief salute.
"You're late," Buck remarked as I clambered into the passenger seat. I had indeed lost track of time and missed our meeting in the square.
"Am I?" I feigned surprise, tossing my gear into the back of the jeep before settling in.
"So you forgot," Buck teased, shifting the vehicle into gear and pulling back onto the road.
"Of course not. I just didn't notice the time," I defended, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Whatever you say, Soph," he chuckled. "How's training coming along?"
"They're improving. They don't have much choice with the live ammunition," I noted, stretching my arms as the jeep picked up speed on the winding country roads.
"I still think that's crazy."
"Maybe, but they'll have to get used to it. At least we're not actually aiming at them."
"Hmm, I don't think that matters if they get hit."
"Are you suggesting my aim is anything less than perfect?" I teased, shooting him a playful glance.
"Never," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Doesn't it worry you even a little?"
"I'm trying not to think about it. Besides, it's an order," I said, shifting the conversation to what had been on my mind all week. "Will you be there at lunch?"
"Yeah, what's this surprise you have planned?"
"It's just something small. I wrote Smokey to apologize for how I treated him, and well, this was my penance."
"Did Bill help?" Buck's eyebrow arched with curiosity.
"Nah, he's been busy."
"Does that have anything to do with why he was in such a bad mood at the pub last night?"
"I hadn't noticed," I lied, knowing full well his bad mood was my fault.
"So you're avoiding each other."
"No, we're just ignoring the elephant in the room."
"Which is?"
"He almost told me... well, I think he was going to, but I cut him off."
"He mentioned that," Buck admitted, glancing over at me.
"He's still pissed then," I sighed. "I thought he'd let it go."
"Soph, that man is mad about you. You've got to let him say it out loud eventually."
"I know, it's just... we're not even been together that long. It's just about two months."
"You're not counting all the time before London or the fact you've basically been living together since. I can see why a guy would get the wrong idea."
"I'm just... I'm not ready," I admitted, my anxiety bubbling up as I picked at my nails.
"I know, that's what I told him."
"Do you think he'll get sick of me, you know, putting him off?"
"Half-pint, that man would wait forever for you."
"I will say it, you know. It's just... whenever I do, it ends badly. I like what we have at the moment. It's simple. Love just complicates shit."
"You're such a cynic," Buck sighed, shaking his head.
I stared at the road ahead, frustration gnawing at me. "Hey, can I drive?" I asked, eager to change the subject.
"Not a chance." He laughed, but his eyes softened, letting me off the hook for now.
"Joe gave me lessons in Brighton," I insisted.
"I know, I was there in the car."
"Really? I don't remember." I scrunched my face in confusion. I had been slightly drunk at the time.
"Well, I do. I've never sobered up more quickly."
"Honestly, Joe told me to keep it between the ditches, and I did."
"You were on the wrong side of the road."
"No one's perfect, Buck."
"And you, Half-pint, are a constant reminder of that," he teased, grinning.
"Oy," I swatted at him playfully. "I did pay for the wing mirror."
"You didn't pay for my therapy."
"Wise ass," I muttered, rolling my eyes as the jeep sped down the country road.
"God, it's good to be back," Tab exclaimed, leaping energetically from the jeep, his joy palpable.
"You won't be as chipper when you see the training schedule," I teased, grabbing Smokey's bag as he adjusted his crutches.
"Trust me, after weeks of lying in a bed, it would be a relief to actually move," Tab replied over his shoulder, his eyes sparkling with eagerness as he set off toward the barn.
"You haven't been to one of Half-pint's drills, and it shows," Buck smirked, shaking his head. "She made my Aldbourne runs look like a walk in the park."
"He's being dramatic," I retorted.
"I heard you've been using live rounds on the replacements," Smokey raised an eyebrow, his tone tinged with incredulity.
"You're joking," Tab stopped in his tracks, eying me skeptically.
"It wasn't my idea," I smirked, walking ahead of him. Reaching the door of the old wooden barn before him, I paused for a second to let them catch up before pulling the heavy doors open. The hinges groaned in protest, but the sound was soon drowned out by the cheers of the men inside.
"This your doing?" Tab chuckled, playfully tousling my hair. His smile widened, revealing dimples on his cheeks.
"They didn't take much convincing," I grinned, stepping into the bustling room. The men clapped and yelled greetings as Tab and Smokey followed suit.
"Thanks, Soph. For this," Smokey patted my shoulder before moving into the throng.
"You're a star," Tab chuckled, his gratitude evident.
"I should be thanking you. You took a chance on me when no one else would. You're no doubt the reason for my promotion," I replied, my voice softening with sincerity.
"You're not giving yourself enough credit," he smiled warmly before being pulled toward the center of the room by the other men.
I scanned the crowd, noticing Buck making his way to the officers, who had surprisingly joined us. I nodded a greeting to Nix, who acknowledged me with a raised glass.
"Hey, Soph," George yelled, standing up to catch my eye. "Nice shindig you've put on here."
"I'm well-trained in the art of being a hostess," I chuckled as I approached their table. Johnny and Skip were settled in beside George, while Bill and Frank sat opposite.
"Wait till you taste the cake she baked. Seen rocks softer than that thing," Frank teased as I slid into the seat beside Bill.
"Oy, I tried my best," I protested.
"You should have seen her first attempt. Looked like someone dropped a deuce in the cake tin," Bill chuckled, winking mischievously.
"Fuck off, Gonorrhea," I joked, nudging him playfully.
"Were you helping her bake?" Skip interjected, his eyes darting between Bill and me. George shot me a knowing look. The tension of our secret was becoming more palpable; the guys were picking up on something different.
"He offered to help me," I responded evenly. "George helped too," I lied.
"Sure did," George chimed in with a forced grin.
"You picked the wrong guys to help you," Johnny chuckled.
"Clearly," I joked, watching as Tab nearly chipped a tooth on the burnt offering that sat on his plate.
The guys seemed to accept the explanation at face value, though I wondered how long it would be before they figured us out. I knew Bill hated carrying the lie. He despised deceiving them. He had been hinting at it more often. I wanted to tell them too, but revealing the truth would mean telling the officers and then Sink. It made everything real. What we had was by no means a casual fling, but cementing it as a relationship in front of everyone made me anxious.
"Hey, hobbler, be quiet for the man," Skip hollered, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"The night of the bayonet, the night was filled with dark and cold, when Sgt. Talbert the story's told," Smokey began, his voice captivating the room, silencing everyone in anticipation.
"I don't like this," Tab groaned, ducking his head down in embarrassment.
"Pulled on his poncho and headed out to check the lines dressed as a Kraut. Upon a trooper our hero came, fast asleep he called his name. 'Smith, oh Smith, get up it's time to take your turn out on the line,'" Smokey continued, as the room erupted into laughter.
"Hey, you left early," Bill whispered against my ear. I turned my head slightly, catching his concerned expression. I hated this fighting, though it wasn't necessarily a fight at all, really.
"Sorry, I wanted to get a head start on training," I whispered back, the guys around us too engrossed in Smokey's tale to notice our little conversation.
"We're okay though, right?"
"Of course," I smiled reassuringly.
"Good. I really thought I'd gone and fucked things up."
"You're not capable of that. It's me that's the issue," I sighed, my voice softening. "I just need a little more time."
He smiled in acknowledgment, though I could tell he was frustrated.
"But Smith, so very weary, cracked an eye all red and bleary. Grabbed his rifle, he did not tarry. Hearing Floyd but seeing Gerry. 'It's me,' cried Tab, ' don't do it and yet,' Smith charged tout suite with bayonet. He lunged, he thrust high and low, and skewered the boy from Kokomo."
Cheers erupted as Tab jumped in to defend his honor. He seemed amused himself, to be fair.
"I'm heading back to barracks," a voice behind me announced. My ears pricked up at the accent. Bill must have heard it too, as he quickly spun around in his chair. Poor babe looked half-stunned by the sudden hand that stilled his escape.
"You Heffron?" Bill spoke, his voice almost a threat, though I knew he was teasing. "Where ya from?"
"Who's asking?" I smirked at his audacity. Most of the replacements were terrified to talk to the older guys, never mind give cheek.
"You from Philadelphia?"
"South Philly. Yeah."
"I could tell."
"17th Street." Bill's face lit up with a genuine smile.
"Yeah, Front Street."
"Come here. Sit down." Bill gestured to our new friend, inviting him to join us. His arrival nearly pushed Johnny off the end of the bench, much to his annoyance.
"Know a guy named Johnny Waylon?"
"Yeah, I know Johnny."
I chuckled softly at how much more intense their accents grew as they bantered about home. Little inside stories that made no real sense to the rest of us but had them chuckling. Eventually, Babe met my eye and slightly blanched.
"Ma'am."
"Christ, you have them well-trained," Bill chuckled in my direction.
"Better than 'sweetheart,' though, isn't it, Babe?"
"Shit, I didn't mean to offend ya," he backtracked, looking genuinely apologetic as Bill watched him.
"You gotta show the lady some respect," George added firmly.
I shook my head in amusement as Babe realized I was joking. He seemed to settle into the conversation, eyeing us all skeptically.
"Soph," Smokey's voice called out.
"Duty calls," I smirked, hopping up from the table and leaving the guys slightly bewildered.
"Since you weren't wounded by the enemy and didn't qualify for a Purple Heart, we've taken matters into our own hands," Smokey beamed as I joined him. "Tab, this is for you." The guys broke into cheers and whistles as Tab blushed.
"I could have shot the kid a dozen times. I just didn't think we could spare a man," he teased, drawing more laughter. Smith looked fit to let the ground swallow him up.
I smiled, taking the medal from Smokey's hand. Tab beamed my way as I leaned down to pin it on his uniform. "Congratulations, you idiot."
"Aw, come here." Tab laughed, drawing me into a bear hug. I smiled brightly, squeezing him back. I had missed my friend.
"A couple of announcements, men. First, listen up." We pulled apart as Lipton silenced the room. "First, the training exercise scheduled for 2200 has been canceled." Cheers erupted around us.
"How the hell did you manage that?" Tab nudged my shoulder playfully.
"Now that wasn't me."
"Secondly, all passes are hereby revoked. We're heading back to France, so pack your gear. We will not be returning to England, boys." The joy seemed to drain from the room like water down a sink. My heart sank slightly as I caught Bill's eyes across the room.
"Anyone who has not made out a will, go to the supply office. Trucks depart for Membury at 0700. As you were."