#Curahee

[adventures-of-grim-and-gracey]

[ww2yaoi]

meanwhile web's ass is just dissociating as per usual. not a thought in his head until the very end there where he's like huh alright score

[itstheheebiejeebies]

I didn't know until just now that the first two eps of BoB aired on 9/9/2001

[curaheehee]

Absolute wild behaviour from the weather rn, I feel gloomy, should I do something gloomy? What's gloomy enough? Saving Europe? Leading men into war? Read BoB angst? Watching aqotwf? Idk nothing's sad enough....brb gotta put on my dirndl

[cpt-sparky]

Erik Jendresen talking about his friendship with Dick Winter will always make sob

[softguarnere]

Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 11: Gosvnoyi Dvninvi

Summary: Zenie’s throat is dry when she issues the challenge. “Flash!”

A/N: The moment we've been waiting for: D-Day

(I couldn't figure out the Cherokee translation for D-Day, so this chapter title translates to "tonight they are falling to the ground")

Warnings: guns, war, language

Taglist: @liebgotts-lovergirl @latibvles @mrs-murder-daddy @lieutenant-speirs

The skies, 1944

The equipment is weighing her down, slapping heavily against her in some places and rubbing her raw in others as she moves, always upward, upward, upward. No matter how many bends she rounds, thinking to herself that surely this will be the top, Currahee always reveals more of the trail that unravels ahead of her.

The trees are half bare, allowing her to catch glimpses of the blue mountains and sprawling town off to her left. She’s scrambling toward the top, but none of the scenery ever seems to get more distant.

I’ll meet you at the top, a voice in her head promises her.

Sometimes when they run the mountain, Zenie feels like if she could just move fast enough, she would be able to outrun something; to break free from it all. Now, she’s running alone, and it feels like something is after her – perhaps all the things that she’s trying to leave behind are catching up with her.

I’ll meet you at the top.

She rounds the last corner. She recognizes this one. There’s the rock outcropping at the top!

The trail is so steep and her equipment so heavy that Zenie is practically on her hands and knees as she scrabbles up the homestretch.

As promised, a figure is standing at the end of the trail. They’re facing away from her, hands on their hips as they stare out over the edge of the mountain. Even though Zenie is gasping for air and sending gravel spraying from beneath her boots, they never show any indication that they hear her coming. Or maybe they just don’t care.

A few more steps and she’s there. She made it! The top of Currahee welcomes her once again.

Instead of stopping, she pushes herself onward, hand outstretched to the figure in front of her. She’s not sure what comes over her. She grabs the person’s shoulder and turns them around to face her, only to see –

Herself.

She jolts awake. Around her, darkness. The engine of the C-47 roars as they tremble through the sky. Loud as it is, she thinks that she can sometimes hear the whispers of those around her as they cross themselves. Maybe she’s imagining it.

She could be imagining anything and everything. Ever since she took that pill, she’s felt unsteady and a little giddy. The cool night air from the doorway of the plane is refreshing. If she closes her eyes, it’s like being on their first nighttime practice jump.

Across from her, Bill catches her eye. He’s whispering something to himself. Methodically, he thumbs through the beads on his rosary. He nods to her but doesn’t stop. She nods back and leaves it at that.

Her eyes wander back to the doorway. The very doorway she’ll be throwing herself out of soon.

But at the moment, it looks like a portal to another world. Inky blackness forms the night sky, although every now and then there’s a flash of light, like heat lightning flickering over the mountains on summer nights back home. Every now and then she can hear popping, like gravel pinging off the sides of a truck. For a split second, all seems still as history holds its breath.

Everything after that moves quickly.

The red light by the door comes on. No sooner is it washing them in its glow then they hear the call.

“Get ready!”

Zenie still feels icky from the pill, but any giddy or dreamy feelings gained from it are quickly lost. She snaps into action, holding up the hook for her static line just like everyone else.

“Stand up!”

They’ve done this so many times that they don’t even jostle into each other when they stand.

“Hook up!”

All the flashing lights from outside the plane are growing more frequent, the sounds that accompany them becoming louder. The plane shudders as they follow the last instruction.

Hardly any time passes between the call for equipment check and the order to sound off for it. From behind, she can hear the rustlings of fabric on fabric as men pat each other down. She’s jostled as she receives her pat down followed by the cry of, “Seven okay!”

She feels the man in front of her, relying on touch to make sure that everything is where it’s supposed to be. When she yells “Six okay!” she practically screams it, just to make sure that she’s heard through the haze and the noise; she doesn’t want something going awry all thanks to her and her inability to speak up when it counts.   

When the last voice calls out, they all wait for the red light to turn green. The sounds of antiaircraft fire are becoming closer and more frequent. She can hear the telltale sounds of metal on metal as the planes are hit. Is the one she’s on taking too much fire?

The plane shudders in response and pitches to the left, causing all the paratroopers in the stick to stumble as they try to stay upright. The pilots manage to right them, sending them scrambling as they try to keep in line. Even with all the darkness outside, it’s evident that they’ve lost altitude.

A deep moaning sound fills the sky around them. Through the doorway, she catches a glimpse of the back half of a C-47 as it falls to the earth. It looks like a comet streaking through the night sky. The front half of the plane is nowhere to be seen.

“Christ, we gotta go!” Someone yells out.

“We ain’t high enough!”

“The light’s not green!”

If they keep losing altitude, they’ll never get to see the light turn green. They’ll never make it out of the plane. That seems like a worse fate than anything that awaits them in the air outside. Zenie’s heart races as she thinks about pushing past the others in the stick so she can just get this jump over with.

Green washes over them. It’s the moment they’ve anticipated, but for a second, everyone remains still, like they can’t believe it’s actually happening.

“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

One by one, the paratroopers in front of her fling themselves out of the plane. Nothing but a silky stream is left behind them as their unopened parachutes slip out of their packs. A few people yell a triumphant Currahee! or Geronimo! as they go. Some of them just yell.

Laughter almost bubbles up in Zenie’s chest. She’s yelled Currahee! on all their practice jumps, just to take her mind off of what awaits her below. Her friends hardly ever seemed to echo the call. Shifty usually just let out a string a cuss words that always seemed so unlike him. But when you need something to yell, anything will do.

She’s next in line. Her Mae West popped back in England. She can only hope she doesn’t land in water. She can only hope that she makes it to the ground.

She’s in the doorway. “Holy shit,” she whispers as she approaches the precipice.

Before she can overthink it, she throws herself out of the plane, “Currahee!” on the edge of her lips. The night is so loud when she sails through the door that it gets lost in all the noise. She’s sure that she counts the faithful one thousand, two thousand, three thousand, four thousand! before her static line unhooks, but her words disappear into the night. A shock runs through her body as her parachute opens behind her, filling with air and slowing her descent into the madness that is taking place all around her.

Brightly colored tracers light up the night sky like an Independence Day celebration. Popping explosions sound off from every direction. She cringes, hoping they don’t get too close to her. Tugging on her parachute’s risers won’t do her any good if she doesn’t know which way they’re coming from.

A roar like a lion comes from overhead as a plane spirals down towards the earth. It meets the cold and unforgiving embrace of the ground below. An orange glow like a distant campfire lights up the ground below as the plane is engulfed in flames. It’s too far away for her to have to worry about, but Zenie pulls on her risers anyway. To think that only a few moments before she had been most worried about landing in water seems absurd now.

Knees and feet together, just like she was taught, Zenie still topples over when she hits the ground. She frees herself from her parachute before worrying with her weapon –

Which is gone. Her leg bag is no longer attached to her leg. Shit.

Staccatos from the distance grab her attention. Right, she’s got a job to do. But how to do it with no supplies . . .

Luckily, she didn’t land in water. Squinting through the darkness, she can make out the clearing that she’s in. A field of some sort, maybe. Trees and shrubs lie a few feet behind her. It’s too dark to tell if they lead into a denser wood or if they just denote a property line. Either way, they could provide cover, should she need it.

“Ha!” A few feet away, an oblong shape rests in the grass. Wasting no time, Zenie rushes to her bag and rips it open.

Except that it’s not her bag. Nothing inside is organized the way that she packed hers. In her rush, maybe she could convince herself that things got tossed around during the fall. But the rifle inside is distinctly not her M1 Garand – it looks like the Lee-Enfields that she’s seen the British carrying around back in England.

Okay, not her leg bag. But at least now she has a weapon and ammo.

There’s no time to feel bad about taking someone else’s leg bag. Ahead of her, through the darkness, a figure appears. Thanks to Sobel’s night marches, Zenie can usually make out any of the men from her company in the darkness.

None of this figure’s mannerisms are familiar, though. It moves slowly, like it hasn’t seen her yet – or like it’s hoping that she hasn’t seen it.

Zenie’s throat is dry when she issues the challenge. “Flash!”

The figure freezes. No response.

Maybe he didn’t hear her? She gulps before trying again, a little louder. “Flash!”

This time he definitely hears her. He starts moving forward, charging her.

There’s no time to think. Zenie lifts the rifle, aims, and pulls the trigger.

Bang! He stumbles backward. Bang! It’s like watching a puppet get its strings cut. The German soldier falls to the ground, dead. It’s as simple as that.

Zenie lowers her rifle and stares at the motionless figure on the ground. “Oh my – “

“Flash!”

On instinct, she raises the rifle again as she swings around to where the voice came from. In the foliage a few feet behind her, a figure is crouched down, watching her.

“Thunder!” She replies, hoping the night doesn’t swallow up her voice.

The figure in the tree line stands and takes a step forward.

“Shifty!” She starts toward him at the same time. They rush to each other. Euphoria at having found a familiar face in this fearsome and strange place washes over her. It doubles over the fact that it’s his face.

“You got him,” Shifty says. He places a hand on her arm. He’s so close when he whispers, “Are you okay?”

Zenie nods, stepping closer, closing what little space there is between them. Her heart is slamming against her ribcage as it tries to break free. She wonders if Shifty can hear it. She can’t answer over its pounding. And certainly not with the way that he’s looking at her, so full of concern.

Their eyes meet. Her breath hitches in her throat.

The next thing that she knows, they’re both leaning toward each other, her face angled slightly upward while Shifty bends down a little. There’s a second’s pause, like they’re asking each other for permission, and then her eyes are squeezed shut and her lips are crashing into his.

Shifty’s lips are slightly chapped. It doesn’t matter to her. And nothing about hers seems to matter to him. The only thing that matters is that for just a moment, the outside world comes to a grinding halt while they create their own little universe for just the two of them. Philosophers and scientists would marvel at the sweet isolation they’ve created in the midst of this chaos and call it heaven on earth.

When they part for air, they rest their foreheads against each other, even with their helmets in the way. Still, she can see into his eyes. See how they light up the darkness with his smile. He’s smiling – at her! The thought fills her with such giddiness that something between a giggle and a sigh of relief bubbles up in her chest. For so long, looking at Shifty felt like trying to catch a glimpse of the sun; something that could only be done in quick glances. Now, as they look into each other’s eyes, it feels like she’s looking at the moon – something that is possible and familiar and lovely.

“Did we really just do that?” Zenie gasps.

“Lord have mercy,” Shifty breathes.

Privately, Zenie thinks maybe He already has. What, short of a real-life miracle, could have allowed someone as good and as kind as Shifty Powers to look at her in this way?

Are you okay? he had asked her. She didn’t answer his question. What could she have said after having just killed a man? Now, though, she feels more than okay. With him here –

Him. Shifty. Here.

Zenie pulls away and breaks the boundaries of their little bliss and regrets it immediately. But she has to know, to get her bearings. Because if Shifty, from third platoon, is here with her, from second –

“Zena?”

“Oh my God,” she whispers in disbelief as she glances around the dark field. “I’m in the wrong goddamn Drop Zone.”

“Oh.” Shifty looks around, his face falling a bit. “Or maybe I am?”

Despite it all, Zenie finds herself smiling. “Maybe we both are.”

If she has to be lost, she’s glad it’s with Shifty.

“Maybe so.” He smiles back at her. His hand lingers near her elbow and her hand still rests on his chest. He seems reluctant to part from the remnants of their privacy when he suggests, “We should probably get movin’. Try to find some others.”

In the distance, the scattered staccatos of gun fire pop off in the night. The war – the very thing that brought them together – is being waged all around them. It’s ever present and inescapable. They’ve had their moment of peace within it. Now it’s time to get back to reality . . . and to hope it won't tear them apart.

Before they do, Zenie leans in – deliberately this time, to give him warning in case he wants to stop – and kisses him again. It’s quicker this time, and she can feel him smiling into it. When they’re done, she grabs the British leg bag she found, intent on carrying it with them, since its owner clearly won’t be using it. She gives Shifty a nod to signal that she’s ready.

He returns the gesture. Then they walk into the darkness – into the unpredictability of war – side by side.

Together.

[lieutenant-speirs]

Just Hold Him (Lipton x Speirs)

Title: Just Hold Him (Part 1 of 2) - (Part 2 here) Ship: Lipton x Speirs Summary: When snow reminds Lipton of what he's lost, what he's witnessed... Grief pierced him through the heart with an icicle shard. Themes: Grief, Hurt-Comfort Author Note: Since when has there been a character limit on tumblr? I gotta post this in two parts now. What the sobel crap is this!?

Since being back from the war, Lipton kept himself busy. Helping his Mom out with the Boarding House, getting his own apartment closer to the college that he had been accepted into to finish his education, school work… and when he had free time, he always found something to do. He couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. If he stopped…he started thinking…and he just couldn’t sit around and mope. Had to keep himself busy and distracted. Perhaps the Sergeant – or Lieutenant, rather – in him, also made him feel like he should be doing something useful. People tend to bring the war home…and Lipton certainly did that. Perhaps not in the means of trauma and PTSD… but things that were drilled into him either during Bootcamp, Training, being a soldier in general... Things such as how he makes the bed…and it gets done every morning. No excuses. How he folds his socks. Even waking up 10 minutes before 6am. Granted he didn’t have to haul his ass out of bed, but he still wakes up like his body clock is still in Toccoa. These wintry months were slightly different… Ron was on leave for a few weeks, therefore he was home. Which meant those early mornings weren’t spent alone, in bed. It was almost humorous the first morning… Lipton was excited to wake up and be the first to look over at Ron, sleeping. Only for his hazel eyes to meet another set of hazel eyes. “Oh. Hi.” Speirs couldn’t help the little sleepy laugh that crept out at Lipton’s disappointed response. Lipton’s eyes quickly danced over Ron’s softly laughing features, drinking in that beautiful sight. If it’s one thing he loves about Ron…it’s when he smiles. “You sound disappointed to see me, Carwood.” “No..Not at all.” Lipton turned the rest of his body around so he was fully facing Ron. He pressed his semi-hardened erection against Ron, causing the brunette’s brows to shoot up, smile turning into a small smirk, hazel eyes softening into a mixed gaze of lustful mischievousness and just general love for Lipton. “Definitely not at all.” Lipton muttered as his neck craned up to press a kiss on the corner of Ron’s lips, only for Ron to catch his lips and pull him into a deeper kiss…. This is what Lipton should be thinking about when he stopped moving, stopped finding ways to distract himself… But no… He had just finished putting a few products away that he was using to fix some squeaking hinges, when he walked out into the open living area and just stared out the window. The bright light of…white… caught his attention. And he found himself staring at the snow-fall. It’s been, what? Almost two years? But the snow has a tendency to pull him right back. The snow will never match the coldness of what they felt in Bastogne, but the same white residue can bring back a flood of memories. The sound of shells going off, shells dropping and exploding the trees, grounds, foxholes… The sound of Luz’s voice in his ear screaming to be heard that Muck and Penkala got hit. Ron had just turned the corner to make a start on dinner when he stopped and watched the man he loves just stare off. Something Lipton doesn’t do. Immediately, the odd behavior was something Ron picked up on. He followed Lipton’s gaze and could only see nothing but snow and – snow. Ron was smart. Observant. Particularly with Lipton. “Carwood?” He gently called out, not making any movement to avoid startling the man. But he got no response. Dark hazel eyes looked around quickly for an answer on how to deal with this situation… this was more Lipton’s department than it was Rons… but Lipton was the one needing the softer approach… “Carwood…?” Speirs started again…this time carefully stepping closer. A mistake, perhaps, in keeping his footfalls on the quieter side as he cautiously walked up to the man who was staring off. The haunted look of war physically evident over his features.

[wrenchinator-central]

Either he’d run there in a day, or get himself dropped in behind enemy lines like any self respecting paratrooper. Once he gets there, what’s Mount Doom but a really hot Curahee?

[pastlivesandpurplepuppets]

When the company was running Curahee Luz, who was good at disguising his voice, would call out, ‘Captain Sobel to the rear.’ Sobel, who always ran at the head of the column, would dutifully double back to see what was up. Finding no problems and undoubtedly perturbed, he’d run back up to the front of the column. Later the joke would be repeated.

~ Forest Guth

[hayscodeviolation]

We’ll go to Chicago. I’ll take you there.

BAND OF BROTHERS (2001) 1x01 “Curahee”  

[danopdf]

for @pookielious who posted asking for a gene and winters shaking hands in Curahee gif! (plus a bonus Gene in his PT gear gif (which we were ROBBED of))

[mads-nixon]

Hey Mads,

I saw your requests are open. Could i please request a Dating Eugene Roe headcanon? Thank you 💕

Dating Eugene Roe Headcannons

Eugene Roe x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: My first ever BoB fic was about Gene, so he holds a special place in my heart. Thanks for requesting! I loved writing these!! this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

So you and Gene meet in Aldbourne when Easy first gets moved there in September of 43' (you meet in october).

You're sitting in a coffee shop reading in the corner, and he thinks you're easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

Being a shy guy, Gene doesn't say anything to you the first time he sees you. He just subtly glances at you from his spot across the shop.

Turns out, he isn't as subtle as he thinks and you totally notice the staring but don't mind it because you think he's very handsome.

You come into the shop every saturday morning, and every Saturday morning, he's there as well. After a few weeks of sneaking glances, you decided enough was enough.

You walk over and introduce yourself to him, and BOY does he go red when you say that you've noticed him.

Despite the awkwardness of the beggining of the conversation, things fall into a steady rhythm, and you find yourself enjoying his company.

Gene's very soft-spoken and respectful (the BEST listener in the whole company if you ask me)

You get to know each other a little bit, and when you have to leave, you write down your address on a table napkin with a grin, telling him you're free the next day at 6.

The next day, he shows up to your house at 5:55 with a bouquet of roses, wearing his dress uniform. He offers you his arm, and the two of you are off to Swindon for the night.

It ended with a sweet kiss under the stars at your porch (there was no light on because of the black-out being in effect)

from there, it was history, and you soon fell for the cajun medic, and he fell just as hard for you.

Whenever he gets weekend passes, the two of you go for day trips to Swindon or London, strolling down the streets softly talking.

In London, you take him to Crystal Palace Park, where you lay out a soft blanket and have a cozy picnic. Your head lays on his lap, and he gently runs his hands through your hair as he talks about his family back home.

You LOVE hearing the different stories of his grandmother and her healing abilities. It only makes sense that Gene would become a medic to help people, following in her footsteps.

As his training continued and the concern of Sobel leading the company grew, Gene began to bottle up his anxieties and distance himself from you slightly.

I feel like Gene is the type of guy who wouldn't want to tell you his problems because he doesn't want to add to your plate, so he suffers in silence.

You confront him about it and he sighs before telling you everything about Sobel and how incompetent he is. (you hate him with a burning passion...possibly more than Eugene does, but it's close.)

Sunday dinner with your family becomes a weekly thing as time drags on. Your dad was hesitant to bring an American into your house, but he likes Gene more than he ever would have thought.

I'd like to think that Eugene buys you small trinkets that reminds him of you (idk where this came from but it's in my mind now)

OKAY...JEALOUS GENE IS HOT, MAN

we all know he can get fired up (after moose get's shot, he rips Dick and Harry a new one), but what gets him really fired up is when he's jealous

Some nights when you're out at a pub, men will make passes at you despite him sitting right there...boy it grinds his gears.

I have a feeling he would just sit there silent because if he opens his mouth, he knows he wouldn't be able to control himself (imagine his *angry* look after Sobel screws up the training mission in curahee) .

You notice and reach out for his hand over the table, trying to calm him down. "I'm going to get us some drinks," you squeeze his hand before getting up.

Gene's eyes follow you as you waltz across the room, and he takes a deep breath.

His gaze falls to the table for a moment, and when he turns back to you, he sees red. There's a British soldier at the bar who's all up in your personal space and is getting closer every second. Eugene can see the discomfort all over your face.

He shoots up from the table and quickly makes his way over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you behind him as he faces the guy.

"Do we have a problem here?" He asks, looking down at the man with fire in his gaze.

The Brit cowers instantly, taking his drink off the table before walking away. "No, sir."

Even through the man was super annoying, seeing Gene like that is incredibly hot, and you turn him around and kiss him.

He calms down pretty quickly after that.

Whenever they have to leave for Upottery, you share a sweet goodbye filled with tears (a lot from you and a few from Gene), and promises of writing.

You keep in contact through letter for the whole duration of the war, and the second he can leave after it's over, he comes straight to Aldbourne and asks you to marry him.

Tag List: @liptonsbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @bucky32557038ww2 @flowers-and-fichte @merriell-allesandro-shelton

message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list!

[ww2yaoi]

david schwimmer being cast as sobel is interesting because sobel at least in dick's eyes and some of the other men in easy was nerdy and unathletic but schwimmer is broad and tall and looks like an absolute unit while running curahee... interesting choice

[itstheheebiejeebies]

Letter from BoB E1 Curahee from Johnny Martin's wife

Upper Right "Springfield Ohio April 18 1944"

Body of letter

"My dearest Johnny,

How I wish you were here to see the springtime! It looks like the snow is finally gone for good, and* there's more green in our garden* every time I look outside.

If only your letters would get* here a little faster and have a little less information removed* from them! After all day at work, my greatest thrill is finding a letter from you waiting for me. But it's never enough. I want to see what you see, so I could know you're alright.

I also got a letter yesterday from Franny about Bill Guarnere's older brother. He was killed at Monte Cassino, Italy. Bill doesn't know.

*She told me* in confidence."

*means I'm not sure if that's correct but it's the best approximation from what I'm working with.

Taglist: @softliebgott @this-dog-just-aint-gonna-hunt @tvserie-s-world @impalachick

[bleedingcoffee42]

From Curahee Scrapbook

[mads-weasley]

Epiphany Pt. 1: Enchanted

Lewis Nixon x Reader

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: heyyy guys! i've decided to start a lewis nixon series!! and yes, the chapter titles are all taylor swift songs. i'm super excited to post this first chapter! please enjoy and let me know what you think! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Arriving at Camp Toccoa to join Easy Company, (y/n) (y/l/n), a participant in a new WAC program, has her first encounter with the men of Easy.

It was a hot and unbearable day under the Georgia sun when (y/n) (y/l/n) arrived at Camp Toccoa. She tried to ignore the looks she got from the men as she rumbled by in a jeep, but what she couldn’t ignore was the rambling of her driver.

“Hi,” he introduced, glancing over at her. “The name’s Lorraine. Well, it’s Gerald, but everyone calls me Lorraine.” 

She shot him a kind smile. “Nice to meet you, Gerald. (Y/n) (y/l/n). I’m part of the Athena program.

“I haven’t heard of that.”

“Well,” (y/h/c) began. “it’s a new part of the WAC that’s sending a few women into the Army as a sort of trial run for the future.”

A look of disbelief passed over his face before he reigned it in quickly. “What made you want to join up, then?”

“Well, who wouldn’t after Pearl Harbor?” She asked, wiping sweat from her forehead.

Lorraine simply nodded and kept his eyes on the road, almost as if he was contemplating a woman’s place in war. To (y/n)’s relief, he chose to keep his conclusion to himself. Vest turned down another long dirt road that seemed to lead directly to the base of a mountain she assumed was the famous Curahee. With a deep breath, (y/n) silently prayed she had the strength to prove to him and everyone else that women belonged in the army; that she belonged.

The morning after Sobel’s canteen tirade, Winters and Nixon were in line for breakfast in the mess hall, trying to figure out what to do about their CO.

“So, what did you do?” Lew asked, walking toward an empty table. There were times when he was thankful he was in intelligence instead of with the rest of the men, and most were because of the hell Sobel put them through.

Dick trailed him with a sigh. “Picked six men and gave them latrine duty.” 

“The lucky six?”

“McDonald, Toye, Perconte, Lipton, Muck, and Guarnere,” he stated, sitting across from Lew. 

“Why them?”

“It was their turn.”

Nix chuckled, looking down at his messy food in thought. It was his job to know things, and he happened to hear about a controversial topic flowing down the ranks. “Hey, have you heard about the new WAC program integrating women into the Army?”

“I’m glad you mentioned it. Our own Athena participant should be arriving at 16:00.”

Lew’s head shot up. “In Easy?”

“Yep.”

Lew didn’t have anything against women in the military but also didn’t know how the men would handle it. “What do you think about it?”

“Well,” Dick began, putting down his utensils softly. “I’m trying to have an open mind, but I’m worried about some of the men.”

Nix nodded and took a sip of coffee with a smirk. “We’ll just have to wait and see, then.”

Little did he know that later that day, his life would change forever.

Lorraine and (y/n) arrived at Colonel Sink’s office a few minutes after 16:00, and the woman was almost sick to her stomach with anxiety. While Lorraine was inside informing Sink of their arrival, she tried to calm herself down. All she wanted was to make an excellent first impression on the Colonel and her superiors.

Lorraine returned and ushered her into the small building serving as Sink’s quarters. (Y/n) followed him down a hallway to a single office room. He nodded and closed the door behind her once she entered. The woman turned and raised her hand to salute him.

“Ah, Miss (y/l/n),” Sink called, words dripping with his North Carolina drawl as he held his hand out. “At ease. Welcome to Camp Toccoa.”

She shook it firmly, praying he overlooked their clamminess. “Thank you, sir. I’m happy to be here.”

Sink gestured for her to sit as he took a seat at his desk, which was neatly arranged in piles of folders and other stationery. “When I first heard about the Athena Project, I didn’t know what to think. My wife was the one who showed me that women have the same right to serve their country as us men. She’s a modern Abigail Adams if you understand my meaning.”

“Yes sir,” (y/n) replied.

He interlocked his fingers above the desk. “If I may ask, what made you volunteer for the program?”

“Well, sir,” she spoke softly, willing her voice to stay strong. “My brother was stationed on the Arizona at Pearl Harbor. He was 20. I couldn’t let the opportunity to follow his footsteps pass by.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Thank you for your family’s sacrifice.”

(Y/n) wanted to respond, but her throat seemed to close up on her. Unable to answer, she nodded stiffly, willing the tears from her waterline.

He noticed her distress and cleared his throat suddenly. “Let’s get to it, shall we? You’ll be in Easy Company of the 101st Airborne. You won’t get any special treatment, but we’ll try to accommodate you as much as possible.”

The door scraped open behind (y/n), and she resisted looking back at the newcomer. The footsteps sounded like a single person, and she hoped they wouldn’t catch on to her moment of emotion. Luckily, Sink addressed them, giving her time to gain control of herself.

“ Winters, where’s Lieutenant Sobel?” He asked with furrowed brows. “He’s supposed to be here.”

 Dick spoke up. “I don’t know, sir. I last saw him in the mess hall around noon.”

With a huff, Sink rose and introduced her. “Lieutenant, this is (y/n) (y/l/n), our Athena participant.”

The redhead smiled politely. “Dick Winters. Nice to have you with us, (y/l/n).”

“Hi,” she nodded, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you, Lieutenant. Call me (y/n).”

Sink led them out of the office and into the main room of the building. “Lieutenant Winters here is going to show you around camp before supper.”

From there, the pair walked around the camp, and Dick informed her of their daily training routine, as well as the expectations of Easy company. Toward the end of their tour, he asked about her family back home and was surprised that she dodged the subject before having to answer. Sensing her discomfort, he made a mental note to not bring it up anymore. 

Before they knew it, it was 18:00, and supper was being served at the mess hall. Dick led her to the large building and ushered them inside. When (y/n) walked into the room, the stench of sweat and body odor mixed with food hit her like a bus. Bile rose in her throat, and it was all she could do to keep from throwing up. 

‘Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up,’ her mind repeated, eyes sinking to the floor.

Dick chuckled beside her. “You get used to the smell,” he quipped. “Let me introduce you to some of the men.”

Before he could take her to them, a shorter brunette man with a boyish look walked up to them, a sly grin on his face. “Lieutenant Winters, sir,” he saluted. “George Luz, ma’am. We’re all glad to have you.”

Two faces popped out from behind his shoulder with smiles of their own. Without missing a beat, George rolled his eyes and pointed at them. “These two idiots are Skip Muck and Alex Penkala.”

Skip smacked him on the back of the head with an aggravated look on his face. “You’re the one that had to be the first to meet her, George, so really, we’re not the idiots here.”

She squinted her eyes as giggles burst from her lips when Luz’s face turned beet red at the comment. She knew immediately that she liked the trio.

“Nice to meet you, too, boys. You can call me (y/n).”

Penkala’s eyes widened and glanced at the two in faux horror. “She called us boys.”

“We are boys.”

“We’re boys,” George mocked. “No, Skip, were men.” 

“How old are you three anyways?” She asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Alex was 18, Skip was 20, and George was 21. After hearing about their ages, she realized that they were just boys. They still had most of their lives to live, much like millions of other soldiers in their position. Much like her.

Dick left (y/n) with the trio and went to attend to his other duties. Once they took a seat, the boys started rambling on about everything from their terrible CO to the best types of slop they were given at mealtimes. (Y/n)’s eyes wandered around the room for a moment before another pair caught hers. When their eyes met across the crowded mess hall, everything around them seemed to vanish as time slowed to a standstill.

The soft, warm gaze in his eyes felt like a long-lost memory, a memory that had been tucked away in the depths of her heart, waiting for the perfect moment to resurface. (Y/n)’s heart fluttered as she felt an undeniable pull toward him, and she couldn’t help but be captivated by the genuine curiosity and surprise that emanated from his gaze. The man was, without a doubt, the most attractive man she’d ever laid eyes on, and her heart skipped a beat at the realization.

His eyes seemed to whisper, “Have we met?” And (y/n) found herself asking the same question.

She held the stranger’s gaze for a few seconds before he slowly got up and started making his way to her. As he approached her, she noticed him anxiously tousling his well-groomed dark chestnut hair with his hand. (Y/n) was suddenly self-conscious and did the same, taming her hair ruined by the southern humidity. Her heart was racing in her chest, almost anticipating the life-changing moment that was about to happen. 

Making it to her table, Lewis grinned and sat beside her, his smile making her blush slightly. “It seems George likes you almost as much as he likes Rita Hayworth,” he said.

The soldier scoffed, ”No offense, (y/n), but Rita is the love of my life. She may not know who I am, but I plan to change that someday. It’s going to happen. Just wait and see, right Penk?”

Alex raised his eyebrows and nodded reluctantly, “Absolutely, buddy. You’ll show her what she’s been missing.”

(Y/n) pressed her lips tightly together, stifling the sound of her impending laughter. She scrunched her nose slightly as if trying to hold back a giggle. Her efforts, though valiant, were ultimately futile as a few muted snickers managed to slip through her defenses.

She soon gave up, and her laughter filled the air. He couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the sight before him. (Y/n)'s face lit up with joy, and her eyes sparkled with delight. The sound of her laughter was infectious, and he found himself chuckling along, almost entranced by how she expressed her happiness so freely.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, (y/l/n),” George said, getting up from the table. “See you all at breakfast.”

Skip and Alex bid their goodbyes as well, following him out of the mess hall. Realizing it was just her and the handsome soldier beside her, (y/n) turned to him with a smile.

Nix stuck out his hand. “Lewis Nixon. As an intelligence officer, it’s my job to know things, so I can’t believe I don’t know your name.”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but notice a subtle nervousness in his eyes matched with a hint of mischief. “Pleasure to meet you, Lewis. I’m (y/n) (y/l/n), Easy’s Athena.”

“Call me Lew,” he charmed, still shaking her hand softly. “We’re happy to have you, (y/n).”

When the realization dawned upon them that they were still holding hands, shy smiles spread across their faces. Lewis cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Have you met Captain Sobel yet?" He asked, grimacing.

"I don't think so. Is he over Easy Company?"

"Yeah. He's also the biggest jacka-"

"There's no way he's that bad," she interrupted, eyes widening.

Lewis chuckled under his breath. "Trust me. Every Friday night, he makes Easy march twelve miles in full gear, just out of spite."

"Do any other companies march?"

“Nope. Just Easy. And after marching last night, he made Dick make up six infractions and punish the men for it. He ended up giving latrine duty to the men who were on this week’s rotation.”

(Y/n) rubbed a hand down her face, groaning. “Lieutenant Winters didn’t say anything about Sobel when he was showing me around.”

“Well, Dick is pretty straight-laced,” Lewis said shrugging with a smirk. “Not everyone can be a cool, calm, and collected intelligence officer.”

"Someone's ego is a little over-inflated," she laughed, raising her eyebrows at him.

“So, how’re you liki-,” he started to ask but was interrupted by someone calling his name. Following the voice, he looked behind him to see Dick near the doors, motioning him over.

“Well,” Nix sighed, looking back at (y/n) with a sheepish smile. “Duty calls.”

As he got up, she called after him. “See you later, Nix.”

She didn’t miss the lack of a ring on his hand, and for the rest of the night, she replayed the enchanting encounter in her mind. How could a stranger seem so familiar? 

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