Evelyn's Tale

-Twenty Seven-

January 2nd, 1945

Evelyn hissed as her entrenching tool hit a rock beneath the frozen ground, causing a tremor to reverberate up into her still sore shoulder.

"Fuck," she groaned to herself.

Digging foxholes was no fun. Especially not with a bad shoulder. She didn't really know why she was bothering to dig one given that she spent most of her time flitting from one foxhole to another. A bit like a nomad with no permanent abode. But everyone else was digging holes, and her brother had explicitly forbidden her from doing the same. Therefore, the first thing she did when his back was turned was disobey him and start digging just to prove a point that she could. Looked like Bill had gotten the last laugh though because she was in absolute agony. Not that she would ever let him know that. Her surname wasn't Guarnere for nothing.

"Care for a little help?"

"Please," she smiled at Grant who had stopped in front of her, with his shovel slung casually over his shoulder. "Just don't tell Bill yeah?"

"Secret's safe with me," Grant pretended to zip his mouth closed. "Tab, you busy?"

A few foxholes away from theirs, Talbert looked up and frowned.

"Well, let me see Chuck," he stroked his chin pensively, walking towards them. "First of all, I was thinking I might take a nice stroll through the woods and take in the beautiful scenery. If you overlook all the blood, it's actually rather picturesque. Then perhaps I might head to that sweet little restaurant called Domingus' and grab myself a bite of the finest cuisine in the land. And if I'm very lucky then I might find a beautiful young lady to dine with."

"Good, then you can come and help me do this," Grant ignored his friend's theatrics and motioned to Evelyn with his head. "Caught this one trying and failing to dig a hole by herself."

"Why's she even digging one anyway? We all know she comes and steals the warmth from the rest of us anyway."

"I wasn't failing, I was just struggling," Evelyn pouted, planting her entrenching tool firmly in the ground once more before fixing Tab with a pointed look. "And have you thought that she might like somewhere to have a little respite from you guys?"

"Put that down," Grant ordered, chuckling at the pair of them. "Evelyn, you go and sit yourself down there. Me and Tab can do this on our own."

"Yeah, you just sit down and look pretty," Tab winked. "Shouldn't be too difficult for you."

Evelyn snorted. She was filthy rotten, just like the rest of them. Her uniform was covered in dirt and blood. Her hands had a permanent red tinge to them, and they smelt like copper. Almost the kind of copper that she remembered her hands smelling like when she was young and used to help her Mom count the coins in the Christmas savings jar. Her hair was greasy and smelled like sweat and cigarettes. She was rather grateful for the cigarette odour that lingered around her from everyone else because at least it covered up any unsavoury scents she was emitting. Not that she supposed anyone else would have noticed or even cared if she was. It wasn't like they were any cleaner then her. None of them had so much as washed since leaving Mourmelon. The closest Evelyn had even gotten to it was having her shoulder wound cleaned out in Bastogne. Nobody wanted to wash in the Bois Jacques. There were too many barrages to worry about. And it was far too cold. Which also brought about another problem. There was barely enough water for drinking and cooking with, let alone to use for anything else. The temperatures were so cold that most water sources were frozen, and they weren't even able to light a fire to melt the unlimited supplies of ice because then they may as well have just waved a huge sign directing German artillery fire right to them.