Charade (Band of Brothers)

"CAMP TOCCOA"

The train carriage rattled violently along the battered tracks. Katheryn Nicolli - A nineteen-year-old brunette - was perched by a window yellow with age and wear, in the front row of the third-class carriage. Kate's temples were continuously knocking into the window glass. She couldn't help but notice the degradation of the train tracks from central New York to here, somewhere in the middle of Georgia. Tapping her lower lip with her thumb,  she pressed her elbow against the seat in front of her. She often unintentionally fell into this position when she was lost in thought. Currently occupying Kate's mind were her expectations of her destination - A Camp Toccoa, Georgia. What you do not yet know is that this 18-year-old girl has hair not three inches long, styled to the side with a masculine scented gel, taupe-brown trousers bloused into her boots, and a bare face - an interesting look for the girl. In fact, an outside eye would likely say she was a young man freshly enlisted in the army. Perhaps it was not the most flattering misconception, but it would have pleased her, for exactly two months ago Kate was leaving a recruitment office for the army in her hometown, Frankton. 

Her eyes glazed over in her train seat when she thought back to that day. Before the sun came up, Kate had retrieved a pair of her sharpest scissors from the kitchen drawer and sheared off her dark chestnut locks. At first, whenever she lifted a hand to sweep her hair out of her eyes - a habit she often still continued - she gasped inwardly when she couldn't feel her usual shoulder-length wavy hair,  reminding herself of her choice. Kate still couldn't believe that any woman could impersonate a man and join the army - not to mention, the Airborne. And yet that is what she had done. The medical assessments were her biggest worry - Surely the nurse would have noticed a few things out of place? But luck was on her side, and it was nothing some cash pinched from the family account couldn't fix. She had made it. Lying through her teeth the whole time, she made it. When Kate was in high school, she was frequently teased for her flat chest and her plain face, but for the first time in her life she was grateful for all of these traits. 

The train ground to a halt, shaking Kate out of her daze. A sign stood right beside the window. The ivory-colored paint was peeling off, but the text was clearly decipherable; Toccoa, Georgia. Kate clasped the handle of her lightweight canvas bag and stood up in the aisle, glancing behind her. She wasn't sure exactly where she was to go - she was hoping there would be other soldiers heading to Camp Toccoa with her. One other soldier, perhaps a couple of years older than Kate, seated a few rows behind her was making his way to the doors as well. Kate decided to let him through first, then follow him. She just hoped he was going to the right place. The man looked confident. He was a bit taller than Kate, maybe 5'6", with hair the color of dry twigs swept back from his face. A few wayward strands fell forward into his eyes. All in all, he looked pretty approachable. As the man stepped off the carriage, Kate hopped down after him. She hesitated before gently tapping him on the shoulder.

"Uh... Excuse me, sir..." Kate cringed. 'Sir'? She was supposed to be a man too now. She had to remember she was James Nicolli. Luckily, it appeared the man didn't hear her. Lowering her voice, she tried again. Clearing her throat, she started; "Hey, um, are you going to Camp Toccoa? To be in the Airborne?" The man turned.

"Well, the patch on my shoulder seems to think so. You know where to go?" The man had a mischievous glint in his eye. If it weren't for that, Kate would have thought he was being cocky with her. Her stomach twisted at the realization that he believed Kate was a man. This could work after all! She cleared her throat. 

"As a matter of fact, I have no idea." Kate shuffled nervously. "You?"

"Sure. Just stick with me and we'll find it." The man turned around, signaling with his finger for Kate to follow him. "Where are ya' from?" 

Kate hurried after him, trying not to get left behind. This guy seemed alright. "I'm from Frankton. You must be from New York too, since you came on this train, right?" Making conversation was harder than Kate thought. Keeping up this act all through the war would be tough.

"That's right. Tonawanda, to be exact." He replied.

"So real close to Canada, huh? And the Niagara?" Kate sees him smirk as the words leave her mouth. 

"Yep. I swam across it once, ten miles up from the falls." He chuckled. Kate raised her eyebrows. "Oh... That's, uh, impressive..." She struggled to reply.

"So, what's your name?" The man breaks the silence.

"Ka- Uh, James. James Nicolli." Kate bit her tongue, almost giving away her real name. She would have to be careful in the future. She figured she would get used to it soon, though. She looked at him expectantly.

"My name is Warren Muck, but my friends call me Skip. Of course, there's no point in you remembering that unless we're in the same company. We'll see." 

Kate raked a hand through her gelled hair. "Is this it?" She came to a stop. Skip looked up as she spoke, noticing a square, metallic gate with the words 'Camp Toccoa' arched over the entrance. On a crest below the bars sat the word 'Currahee', molded out of a dark steel. 

"Looks like it." Skip pulled the handle. The gate didn't budge. Kate squinted at the lock before stepping up. 

"Here, let me." She pushed her shoulder against it, and surely enough, the gate swung open with ease. She let out a disheartened laugh. Oh, god. What have I gotten myself into? Kate silently cringed.