I was one of five women chosen to serve our country, fighting side by side with the men, and only some of us had come home. Being surrounded by friends and enemies, having to choose who you can save, who you can love, and how to survive is something...
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The next morning, our new orders would take us towards Haguenau, which sat on the Moder River, just off the Rhine. These orders sounded like we would be sent there to wait for further instructions but we knew it was a facade. Any time there was to be any form of action, Easy was the Company they sent in; we knew it was only a matter of time.
The downside of Haguenau was the enemy troops holed up in the village on the opposite side of the river. Both sides knew of the other's presence and most days, we had a mutual acknowledgment that never escalated past a single shot here or there. It seemed like both sides were simply tired of fighting but the days we did fight each other usually resulted from the men on duty antagonizing the other.
Cobb was the worst of the lot on our side. Anytime he saw movement in that village, he would open fire, despite being ordered not to. The hurt and shocked expressions of the enemy trooper who he shot made those watching with binoculars on our side laugh. By laughing, it only encouraged Cobb to plink them a few more times, which received cheers from the men. I hated this cruel and unnecessary ritual the men formed out of boredom. I believed if both parties were tired of fighting, maybe we should just go home. Unfortunately for me and my silly childish hopes, Hitler was still alive and he'd never agree to such an idea.
The great thing about being stationed in Haguenau was the indoor sleeping quarters with the understanding that we'd have to run outside should the mortars rain down on the rooftops. Every single one of us believed it was worth the trouble as the frigid weather hadn't improved much over the past few weeks.
When we first arrived, I found an abandoned house with a small bedroom on the upper floor. Sections of the walls were missing here and there, the shale roof had been shelled and was falling apart, the majority of the glass windows were blown out - all from the mortar blasts - and the glass shards blanketed the floor. There was a massive draft blowing through the place from all of the destruction yet it was still surprisingly warmer than being outside. When I found the bathroom, I could see the sewage was backed up and the toilets were always half-full with no hope of fixing it.
Despite the state of the place, I forced myself to look at the positive side of things. I was alive, unlike so many of the men I knew from the beginning of this tumultuous journey. I had a bed and a roof over my head - even if it was falling apart on me. I no longer had to find a somewhat secluded area to squat in the woods to do my personal business. As one of the men stated when we were settled in, we were doing well for ourselves. With an attitude and outlook like that, it was hard to dwell on the negatives for long.
I spent my days helping Doc Roe with the occasional wounded as well as the men who were unfortunate enough to catch colds or other illnesses. We did the best we could with our limited supplies but were informed we might see some new supplies, winter clothes, and hot showers soon. Everyone waited as patiently as possible for that day to come.
I left the med station we set up after a long day of dealing with runny noses and violent coughs to make my way to my room. As I walked down the snow-slushed lane, a couple of trucks caught my attention. Not only were the supplies we were promised finally here but a lot of wounded men returned from the hospitals, hopping off the back of the trucks to greet their friends. I didn't bother to stick around. I turned on my heel and continued toward my housing.
