Chapter 11: Steve to the Rescue

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Mid-November 1943 Five Miles from the Front

Steve is trying to do his show, but the soldiers don't want to hear him, and the girls come back to the stage. He sits backstage, and it starts to rain. Steve is drawing a Captain America looking monkey. Peggy silently observes before stepping closer.

"Hi," she says softly.

"Oh! Uh-hey."

"That was quite the performance."

"Yeah, I uh-had to improvise a bit. The crowds I'm used to are usually more—twelve."

"I understand you're 'America's New Hope.'"

"Bond sales rise ten percent in every state I visit."

"Is that Senator Brandt I hear?"

"At least he's got me doing this. Phillips would've had me stuck in a lab."

"And are those your only options? Lab rat or dancing monkey? Ady would be horrified. You're meant for more than this you know."

"Well, she's gone isn't she, and I'll never—never—" Steve sobs, "see her again. It's just, you get enough people—telling you you're a hero, after years of them telling you you're nothing. All I ever dreamed about was coming overseas, being on the front lines, serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted—and I'm wearing tights."

An ambulance rushes by to the hospital tent. Wounded are unloaded on stretchers.

"Looks like they've been through hell."

"These men more than most," she hesitates a bit before continuing. "Schmidt led a force to Azzano. Two hundred men went up against them, less than fifty came back. Your audience contained all that's left of the 107th. The rest were killed or captured."

"The 107th?"

"Yes, what?"

"Come on."

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