Half Sick of Shadows » Band of Brothers [2]

37: Smiles from the Threshold

"Hope / Smiles from the threshold of the year to come, / Whispering 'it will be happier'..." - Alfred, Lord Tennyson, The Foresters

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The road to Berchtesgaden is one that seemingly doesn't want to be travelled. Or, at least, the Nazis who once lived there didn't want us to travel it, so under Hitler's final command they've blocked the roads in whatever ways they can. Each of the company's troop trucks are stopped in a queue trying to get in and have been for over half an hour now. A few of the men have gotten out either to stretch their legs or make various attempts to get the boulders out of the way, so I'm lying down across one of the benches of the trucks with my eyes closed into the sunlight, feeling its warmth draped over me.

Every now and then a resounding bang, indicating another mortar or bazooka has been fired at the road blocks, will stop my heart and make me jolt in place, but they're becoming fewer and farther between now that they don't seem to be making any difference.

"Havin' fun?" asks a southern drawl I'd recognise anywhere, seeming to appear out of nowhere. When I peak an eye open, Gene's got his arms leaning on the railing of the troop truck, right by where I'm laying. He's gazing down at me with a grin.

"So much," I reply with a grin of my own. After a moment's thought I smile to myself and hold my arm out up to him. "Will you roll up my sleeves for me, like you did before D-Day?"

Gene laughs and shakes his head but he does it anyway. I close my eyes again and concentrate on the feeling of his hands on my sleeves, smiling to myself. When taps my wrist to let me know he's finished, I drop my arm and raise my other one so he can do the same again.

"Y'know," he says after he begins rolling up that sleeve too, "you could do this yourself."

I open both eyes this time to see him laugh when I pout. "When I try it's not as good as when you do it," I insist. This, of course, is true - he does everything better than I do - but when he rolled up my sleeves last time they stayed that way for days, even through the jump into Normandy. When I do it, they fall down within minutes.

When he taps my wrist again to indicate that he's done I return my arm to my side and send him my most winning smile. "Thank you."

He chuckles to himself. "You're welcome."

When I hear another bang I flinch and decide to finally sit up. I turn my body until one leg is propped up on the bench in front of me, and look to the boulders blocking our path. "Are they having any success?"

Gene shrugs. "Don't think so. Apparently the engineers were supposed to be here half an hour ago."

I pull a face which makes him laugh softly before turning back to him.

"You know," I begin, smirking slightly, "I've been to Berchtesgaden before."

His eyebrows hop up in surprise. "You have?"

"Well," I begin with a small laugh, "Juliette Chevalier hasn't been to Berchtesgaden. But a maid named Katharina Bauer has."

He catches my meaning and laughs a little bit. "What's it like?"

I shrug. "I was there was a few years ago now but at the time it was a very unassuming, pretty alpine village. It was flooded with German socialites, which I reckon it isn't now, and, above all, a whole lot of Nazis. Hopefully this time around, without either of those things and without having to pretend to be a maid, I'll enjoy it better."

"What were you doin' there?"

I'm not really supposed to tell him, but I've reasoned with myself that I've already told the Nazis a lot of what I've done in the past, and if I've told my enemy then I can definitely tell my allies.