𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; band of brothers ✔

PART THIRTY ONE

Word count; 2,109

Frances

A few hours passed by as Easy Company descended the German countryside. We eventually stopped at an old barn house on the side of the road, so men could relieve themselves and stretch their legs. Winters climbed out of the jeep, asking an orderly nearby how much longer was left of the journey. Four hours, I overheard.

The whole trip was awkwardly silent. Nixon's wife had written to him, explaining she wanted a divorce and was taking their pet hound with them, and Winters didn't dare make conversation with him, aware of how sincere both things were in his life. Spiers and I had also remained in quietude, suffering from the night before. None of us smiled, despite the arrival of sunshine.

Spiers hopped onto the ground, walking off into the woodblock where many others had done. I watched him enter the shadows of the boughs of trees before looking away, and departing the jeep myself. In the vehicle behind us sat Lipton, Welsh and a few others. I walked straight past them, not intending to make conversation, only for one to call me back.

I turned around, "Lieutenant?"

Lipton smiled carefully and, realising he didn't want us to talk at such a distance, jumped out of the jeep.

"I wanted to apologise, for last night."

I sighed, his eyes presenting a gloss that I couldn't ignore.

"You weren't the one who said anything,"

"I started it." He crossed his arms. "And I didn't stop it. I should've."

Seeing his guilt, I touched his bicep playfully, "Don't worry about it, hon."

"It's all I can do." He shrugged. "I mean, it's none of my business. I won't tell anyone."

"What, we back in highschool, hon?" I chuckled. "It's all right. I would've told you at some point. I just wish it wasn't like that."

He eyed a figure behind me; Spiers. "Has he said anything?"

"He asked why I didn't tell him. Earlier, that is. I don't think he said it in the way he intended to."

"I envy you, ma'am." He exhaled. "You're very forgiving."

I shook my head, "He doesn't understand the affect he's had on me. But how could he? He didn't know what I had been through in Bastogne. Neither did you."

The Captain strolled right past, not bothering to greet either of us.

"He's got some nerve." Lip commented.

"I think he's scared I'll bite his head off again." I smiled.

We said our goodbyes, and I returned to the jeep. Spiers fiddled with his pockets, dropping a lighter onto the floor of the vehicle. I picked it up, presenting it in my hand.

"Thanks." He said curtly, taking it.

I scoffed lightly.

Easy Company's destination was a town deep in the German frontier, a stop-off on the wider journey. Confronted by the same routine of billeting inside strangers' houses, only an hour passed by before each soldier was settled, either asleep, gambling, or seeing what they could steal from the mansions that the town hosted.

I took a seat on a bench, one of many surrounding a still on-going fountain. 1st Platoon had been assigned one of the largest houses on the street, filled with vintage liquor and artifacts, and a substantial library as an entire annex, of which I had stolen a book from; I knew I wouldn't sleep for a while, and Platoon HQ was the last place I wanted to be. It was half English and half German, each page alternating which language it used to translate the page before it.