We Happy Few | Band of Brothers

Chapter 42: Hershey Bars

With clean hair and a fresh uniform on, Margot was feeling better than she had in weeks. There was just something simply healing about standing under some warm water for a few minutes and changing into some clothes that weren't caked in mud, blood, dirt, and God knows what else. Now all that was on the woman's mind was tracking down some hot food before having to go on the evening patrol.

The tall, toned, and now extremely thin machine-gunner from North Carolina—just like everyone else who had been picked—wasn't looking forward to crossing a freezing river in a dingy little boat in the middle of the night, into enemy territory, in the slightest. To Margot, the thought of risking the lives of good American troopers just to capture some POWs didn't seem to be worth it, but then again, she wasn't in the Battalion; maybe they knew something she didn't. Scratch that, they most definitely knew things she didn't—the question was: were those things worth risking lives over?

Wrapping her hands around the ends of her hair, Margot rung out as much water as she could just as she felt a tap on her shoulder. Looking up, she noticed Malarkey standing to her left, dressed head to toe in fresh ODs just like she was. "I'm gonna head back," he told her plainly. "You coming?"

"Yeah." Margot nodded and fell into pace beside him, their boots squishing in the wet mud due to the runoff from the nearby shower. 

Just as the two were about to round the corner onto the main street, a faint voice caught their attention. "Sergeants!" Lieutenant Jones jogged up to them. "I was wondering if either of you would be willing to let me take your spot on the patrol tonight? I could really use the experience."

Margot and Malarkey looked to each other, a look of amusement and relief on their faces. As much as the kid's eagerness was irritating, his request to take their place on the mission was like an early Christmas present. 

Malarkey smiled slightly and Margot noticed the stress lines around his mouth and eyes. She could see the exhaustion on him so clearly, it was as if he had been doused in a large bucket of it. "You can take Sergeant Malarkey's place." Margot volunteered herself to stay on the patrol even though every bone in her body begged her to jump at the opportunity of what could be a full, decent night's sleep. "He deserves the break more than I do."

Malarkey exhaled slowly, his eyes brightening at the words he had just heard. He wanted a break so badly he would almost be willing to kill for it, but on the other hand, if Margot had asked for it, there would have been no way he could consciously take it from her. 

With the news that Malarkey had no quarrels about the young Lieutenant taking his place, Jones was so full of joy he practically skipped off like a little schoolgirl as he left to find Winters and ask his permission. In the end, it would be up to Winters, and Winters alone.

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Walking into the supply room, Annie made a beeline right for the shelves and immediately began rummaging around for any medical supplies she could hoard. As much as she hated feeling like a little morphine goblin, she knew that she wasn't going to get anything by asking politely. The small blonde had learned early on in the game that if you wanted something, you took it; plain and simple.

"You look deranged," an all-too-familiar voice piped up from behind her. 

Ready for the teasing she was about to be bombarded with, Annie sighed and spun around, her eyes already set on Luz, who was standing at the desk in the opposite corner of the room doing inventory on the various supplies that had been delivered.

The medic was about to throw a witty retort back, but when she saw what was tucked in the radioman's hands, all thoughts of messing with the man dissipated. "Is that chocolate?" she asked curiously as she took a few slow, deliberate steps closer.