#females in ww2

[skyrigel]

Simon loved you in every way, he liked your sleepy soft voice and grumpy bratty smile and sweet hungry whining, he liked you in mornin nd in night, but something something about the way you looked when you were just so fucked up.

He can cum alone with the way you looked just after he'd pounded inside you, your mouth gaping with drool, eyes blown back like you were brainless, no thoughts forming except how good he made you feel, the way he pushes inside you, deeper until he finds your g-spot, thrusting like devil has taken him over, he liked how your sweet mouth didn't stop making all those obsences sounds, your ah-ah-ah synchronised with every hard pound, how needy and feral you became, your neck starting to bruise with his marks—his, breast rippling up and down and meeting his pace — his, and it was one of those times when he was admiring your feral fucked up body, that pretty brain of yours that was always thinkin and now you wouldn't even remember your own name, just Simon-Simon-Simon in a chant. So good.

He was still inside you despite painting your insides with his seed over and over, you can still feel his cum dripping down your hole, slicky noises explicitly coming as he lazily moved inside you, tormenting you. He cupped your cheek, admiring his darlin work.

“So pretty, m' baby.” He cherished, chuckling as another tear rolled down and you whimpered, your legs aching — already sliding down from his shoulder but Simon didn't let go, his hand coming to your throat where your skin was starting to purple.

“Not now..Mrs.Riley...wish ya' see how pretty you look dove.” He cooed, tracing your neck and he never choked you, he already had you so good and breathless and you have always been a sensetive girl, but it seemed right as his big veiny hand wrapped around your throat, and he could already feel the way you sucked on air and just when he squeezed, trapping your breath — your hips buckled to meet his cock, twitching inside you, Simon smirked, he didn't know you would've liked it but he should've known how much you love him, how much you love his big cock.

“Such a needy little girl.” He said, thumbing your chin up, drool slitterin down the side of your mouth, eyes blown back. Beautiful.

How much he loved you like this, so good.

Masterlist

[cid5]

A female air or civil defense soldier in Leningrad, 1941 with the M38 derivative of the British Brodie helmet and either an Pattern 1914 Enfield or an American M1917 rifle.

[she-wolf09231982]

Joe Toye

“The Bunny and The Fox”

Summary: You thought Joe Toye was too scary to even consider a friend, but he proves to be not only a great friend, but also a lover.

A/N: One shot, Mature audience, JoeToyeX!FemMedic, WW2, Female Pronouns, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Military and Medical Terminology, Inappropriate Nicknames, HBO Band of Brothers References, Mentions/Descriptions of Injuries, Weaponry, Smoking. Angst/Conflict, Smut, *John Wayne/McClintock Movie Quote*, FOREVER FLUFF

@awaterfalls 😁🪖♠️🦅❤️

These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~

He always appeared so….serious. His face in a constant state of pissed off and disdain. If looks could kill, Joe Toye (and Johnny Martin) wouldn’t have needed weapons in the war.

You avoided him all through Toccoa. He just seemed like the type to leave the hell alone. But every now and then, you caught a glimpse of him smiling or laughing with the guys.

“Not bad.” You’d think to yourself as you admired his smile.

Since you trained with Easy as a medic, you rarely had an excuse to speak to him unless he was injured. Even then you kept your conversation short and sweet with hardly any eye contact. But with his low raspy voice came a sense of calm while you took care of him. You supposed he seemed friendly enough.

~~~~~~

June 1944 Post D-Day

Orders were given to take Carentan where German soldiers were being sheltered. Carentan was the main crossroad between Cotentin and Calvados where the ally force's tanks needed passage to attack the main objective, Cherbourg.

"Listen up!" LT Welsh shouted. "It'll be dark soon. I want light and noise discipline from here on. No talking, no smoking. And no playing grab-fanny with the man in front of you, Luz. We're taking Carentan. It's the only place where armor from Omaha and Utah Beach can link up and head inland. Until we take Carentan, they're stuck on the sand. General Taylor's sending the whole division."

Some of the men began to grumble under their breath. Everyone started to stir to gather their gear to begin the journey to Carentan.

Walking in a file formation on each side of the road to Carentan. You found yourself walking in front of Toye as Perconte proceeded you.

“Hey Toye, why you always in the middle when we convoy anywhere? Ain’t you ever in the front?” Guarnere teased.

“I go wherever the medic goes in case I get hit, Bill.” Joe responded.

You blushed and dared to sneak a glance behind you. As you did, Toye met your gaze shooting you a quick wink. You quickly look back to the front embarrassed he caught you acknowledging him.

“Awe now look what ya did. You scared her.” Guarnere teased.

You hear some of the guys laugh.

“Maintain your noise discipline.” Winters reminded.

~~~~~~~

"MEDIC!!"

You and Doc on separate ends of the streets trying to keep low to tend to the wounded.

You rush to two soldiers landing on your knees next to them, one on the ground with a trail of blood coming from his helmet, the other crouching over him.

"He's still breathing, help me carry him!" You call out. You each grab an arm of the injured soldier and drag him behind a building.

While you're working on the nameless soldier's head wound, a drug store gets blasted by German artillery not far from where you were, the force from the explosion sending you sideways into the brick wall next to you.

You shake your head to stop the ringing in your ears. Everything you could hear was distant as your vision became fuzzy and dark. You start to smack your ear trying to make it pop so you can get back to your senses.

“Y/L/N! We gotta move! Get up!” Toye’s muffled voice yelled out.

He grabbed you by the arm pulling you up to your feet. You still couldn’t barely see so you held onto his arms for dear life.

“I-I can’t see nothin’ Joe!” You called out to him.

“Ok, come on…UP we go!” You hear him grunt as he threw you over his shoulder.

You feel him trotting to safety while blast after blast erupted all around you. You feel him lower you as gently as he could to the ground against a wall.

“Hey, look at me.” Toye said as he guided your face towards his, “Can you see me now?”

You shake your head, “No, it’s all dark and blurry.” You reply as tears started to stream down your cheeks.

Were you going blind?? Is this it? You’re not going to be able to see your family’s faces? Never see your own reflection? You feel yourself slipping into shock.

“Hey! Stay with me now, ok doll? Don’t cry. Doc’s on his way.” You hear Toye’s voice break through your thoughts.

Doc ducked behind the wall with you and Toye.

“What’s the matta’ with her?” You hear Gene ask.

“She can’t see. Says everything is blurry.”

“Gene, I think I’m going blind. Am I going blind??” You asked panicked trying to reach out for him.

“What happened before she couldn’t see?”

“A shell dropped right by her and she went flying into a brick wall.”

Gene nodded, “That’ll do it. You got a concussion, Y/L/N, you ain’t goin’ blind.”

You released a sigh of relief.

“Joe, can you get her back to HQ? She ain’t no good out here if she can’t see nothin’.”

“I got her, Doc.”

~~~~~~~

Toye got you back to an aid station not long after Easy Company claimed victory over Carentan. You remained there until the following day after your vision returned. As you approached a group of the guys from Easy, you were welcomed with whoops and cheers.

“Hey! Look who it is!” Luz called out.

All the guys turned to find you walking towards them.

“Hey look what the cat dragged in!” Malarkey joked.

The chorus of laughter from the men lifted your spirits.

“Yeah, I look rough, I know. Thanks guys.” You greet.

You looked around for Toye.

“He’s over there.” Luz pointed out as he gestured with is thumb over his shoulder.

“Oh, I just, uh, wanted to thank him for-“ you began.

“-yeah, yeah we know. He’s over there.” Malarkey interjected pointing down the street.

You feel yourself get flustered so you scamper off to where they said Joe was. As you walk through the rubble that Carentan has become, you see Toye standing in a circle with a few of the other guys from Easy. He throws his cigarette butt on the ground, stomping it out with his boot before he turns and sees you.

His face lights up when he saw you walking up.

“Hey there she is!” Guarnere hailed.

Bill met you and extended his hand for you to shake, which you obliged.

“Good to see you, Bill.”

“Glad to see you up and about, doll.” He pulled you in closer, “Someone’s been real worried about you since they left you at the aid station, by the way.” He disclosed.

You pull back and met Bill’s face with confusion. He winked and motioned over to Toye with his chin.

“Go on and say hi to him.” Bill added.

You narrow your eyes at him and smile. You slowly approach Toye as he stood there with his hands in his pockets and smirking as he patiently waited for you.

“Hey, Toye.” You squeak.

“Hey, Y/L/N. Good to see you.” He replied with his signature husky voice.

“Well, if it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t be here. Thank you for helping me.” You say as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

You hear Guarnere whistle. You turn around and shake your head at him.

Toye cleared his throat, “It was nothin’.”

You both stood there awkwardly until Bill came over.

“Hey, the guys were going to go to the bar that survived the wreck. You wanna join us later for a few night caps, Y/L/N?”

“Sure, if I can find a place to get cleaned up.”

“Ok it’s that little place over there. We’ll all be there around 1900, aight?”

You knew Bill was scheming something for you and Toye. You look at him suspiciously.

“Ok, I’ll see you guys there later.”

~~~~~~~

You breeze through the front door of the pub and begin scanning the room for the familiar faces of Easy.

“Hey! Y/F/N! Over here!” Guarnere called out waving his hand.

You push through the crowd to get to the table where most of your guys were sitting. You catch Toye playing darts with LT Compton, Luz, and Heffron.

“What can I getchya?” Bill asked.

“Oh, whatever you’re drinking, Bill.” You reply.

“Comin’ right up.” He announced as he walked to the bar.

You look back to Toye and catch his eyes looking at you too. He smiled and raised his glass to you with a wink. You smile back and give him a little wave.

“Here ya go.” Bill returned handing you a pint glass of beer.

You cheers and take a hearty gulp.

“Thanks, Bill.” You say as you squeeze his arm.

~~~~~~~

The night was filled with laughter, banter, and taunts amongst Easy. And somehow, your glass kept getting magically refilled by each of the guys. You had to refuse Malarkey’s offer to buy your next round because you felt your head starting to spin.

“Ok, we’ll slow down.” Don chuckled, “But when you’re ready, I got the next one!”

“Yessir.” You quipped.

You turn towards the dart boards and see that Toye had moved. You began to search the room for him and suddenly stop at the bar where he was talking to a local woman dressed in a tightly fit dress.

You felt a distinct sense of dread mixed with anger, but you weren’t sure why. The longer you watched Toye leaning closer to whisper in her ear while she giggled, the more your rage boiled over inside.

“What’s the matter, doll? You gotta look on ya like you’re gonna murder someone.” You hear Guarnere chime in.

You avert your eyes to the floor.

“It’s nothing.” You say quickly.

Bill looked where you were just looking.

“Well ain’t that a son of a bitch. After all the trouble I went through to set you’s guys up, he goes and finds another bird to chat up.”

You look at Bill, “What do you mean set us up?”

Bill looked at you alarmed.

“Oh, well, I thought you knew. Toye over there has got it real bad for ya. Has ever since basic but he figured he never had a chance. I told him you were a catch and that you had a thing for him too.”

“Oh do I now?” You asked astounded by his response.

“Well, don’tchya?”

“I suppose he’s handsome. Good soldier. But looks like he’s not as sweet on me as you think.” You state as you gesture to Toye by the bar getting disgustingly close to the blonde bombshell.

“Ah, he’s an idiot. He’s just trying to get laid.”

You look at him with daggers behind your eyes. Bill’s eyes widen.

“Uh, what I mean is he don’t care about her, ya know? He’s trying to not think about you because he thinks you’re outta his league.” Bill hastily explained.

“Yeah? Well, I’ll get his attention.” You declare as you storm off towards the bar.

“Ah shit.” Bill mumbled to himself rolling his eyes.

You walk up to a soldier from Fox Company standing a few feet away from where Toye was with his new little friend. You approach the bar and slightly bend over to the surface of the bar and rest your elbows on it. The soldier noticed you right away and a devilish grin appeared across his face.

You look over at him and smile.

“Hey, angel, you’re the prettiest face in here.” He said as he scanned you from head to toe.

You see Toye look over the blonde’s shoulder at you. So you inched closer to the stranger.

“At least someone noticed how hard I worked on my make up tonight.” You say loud enough for Joe to hear.

Toye’s jaw started to tighten. Your plan was working like a charm.

“What are you talkin’ about? You’re a dish!” He returned enthusiastically, “Can I get you a drink?”

“A pint is fine.”

Toye excused himself from the company of his little vixen and approached you with obvious vigor. He stopped so close to you, you can feel his breath on your face.

“You think you should have anymore?” Toye asked in a low gravelly tone.

You were almost a puddle at his feet.

“What’s one more?” You dismiss.

“Hey, buddy, this one’s mine. Get lost.” The Fox soldier warned.

Toye glared at him, a clear warning with his fierce gaze to back off. “Shut up.”

He turned back to you. “You hit your head hard yesterday. You got a concussion, remember? Drinking too much isn’t good for you right now.” He cautioned.

The soldier behind Toye huffed outloud. You bring your face closer to his.

“How about you go on back to your little blonde bunny over there and worry about her?” You say softly staring intensely into his eyes.

You snidely smile and gently push him aside to accept the beer the Fox soldier was holding for you. Toye grabbed your wrist before you could get your fingers around the glass.

“Because I’m worried about you.” He sternly replied.

“Hey, pal, I’m not gonna tell ya-“

Before the guy could finish his sentence, Toye swung and punched him across the face sending him to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“Joe, what the hell is the matter with you?” You bark.

He turned to face you, his teeth clenched and resentment in his eyes.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? You got my attention.” He said raising his arms to the side.

Just then, another Fox Company soldier soared in and tackled Toye. When Guarnere saw Toye get sacked, him and the rest of Easy rushed in, clashing with Fox Company in a battle royalé in the middle of the dance floor.

You grab a bottle of whiskey and force your way into the horde to smash it over the head of one of the opposing soldiers when you suddenly feel your feet swiftly leave the floor, and you find yourself once again thrown over Joe Toye’s shoulder as he rushes out the front door.

You start to push off of his back to look at him.

“What are you doing?? Put me down, NOW! This is completely barbaric! Were you raised by wolves??”

“Shut your mouth.” Toye said sharply.

He wouldn’t cave no matter how hard you struggled. He continued to carry you until he got to the house where you had been staying at with the field nurses. He opened the front door and practically threw you onto the couch in the main corridor.

“You��re an absolute animal, Joe Toye.” You snarled at him.

“Yeah? You haven’t even seen the worst of it yet.” He retorted.

You stood up, only to lose your balance and fell backward on to the couch again.

“Well save it.” You spit back crossing your arms, “You can go now. I’m sure that little dish at the bar is waiting on you.”

Toye furrowed his eyebrows at you, “You’re the only one even thinking about her. I haven’t even given her a second thought since you walked through the door of that place!”

You scoff, “Sure, Joe. Didn’t seem like it when your hands were all over her like a magnet.” You pointed out as you stood up slowly.

“Yeah?” He queried as he closed the gap between the two of you, “You mean like this?”

He roughly grabbed you by the waist and kneaded your hips with his strong calloused hands as he pulled you into him. Your faces so close, you thought he was going to kiss you, but he only hovered over your mouth. You were a deer in the headlights, your words caught in your throat somewhere. You almost forgot to take breath when you started to feel faint, so you took in a deep breath through your nose to recover.

You put your hands on his chest and started to push away.

“What are you doing, Toye?” You manage to say.

He jerked you back into him, slithering his one hand across the small of your back while the other one firmly caressed the swell of your ass. You tried to protest, but your voice betrayed you only allowing a whimper to escape from your throat. This man had you a melting hot mess in his arms and it only made you angrier that he was getting you flustered.

“What? Got nothin’ snarky to say now, sweetheart?” He teased.

The fire inside you began to rise, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were turned on, or pissed off.

“I hate you.” You sneered as you slipped out of his grasp and headed for the staircase.

Before you could lift your foot to take the first step, you feel yourself twirled back around and face to face with Toye in his arms.

*“Half of the people in the world are women…Why does it have to be you that stirs me?”* He growled before grabbing the back of your head to bring your mouth to his.

You wanted to fight back and push away again, but your body fought you, leaning into his body and fisting his uniform jacket to pull him as close as possible to you. You part your lips to allow his tongue to pass and explore yours. You playfully nip at his bottom lip eliciting a deep guttural groan from him. His hands scoured your body as his hips instinctively pushed his hard on against you. You dig your nails into his shoulders as you moan into his mouth.

You pull back, “Let’s take this upstairs.”

Toye only replied with a mischievous grin, then picked you up bridal style to carry you up the stairs. When you direct him to your room, he set you down to secure the door. Right at the moment he turned around, you forced him against the door and hungrily kiss him while unraveling his tie.

He grabbed you by the shoulders swinging you around pinning you against the door with a ‘thud’ then placed his hand around your throat. He tightened his grip enough to make a point he was in charge, but not hard enough to alarm you. You instinctively grab his wrist with both hands as you clenched your thighs together, hoping to get some friction against your core and to prevent the wetness from dripping down your leg.

You hissed through your teeth as a smile stretched across your face. Toye pressed himself harder against you, the bulge in his pants grinding into your pelvis. You slide one hand away from his wrist gradually finding your way to his belt buckle. His fingers around your neck increased their grip.

You ran your tongue along your lower lip. He looks from your eyes to your mouth as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly scooped you up from behind your thighs wrapping your legs around his waist and carried you over to the bed, dropping you on your back onto the mattress.

He removed his tie, then with one hand unbuckled his belt all the while staring at you like a starved wolf about to pounce on his prey. You scoot to the edge of the bed and start to unbutton your uniform top. He situated himself between your spread knees at the edge of the bed.

You look up at him through your lashes and smile as you start to work on removing his pants. Your top partially open with your cleavage peaking through, he fisted the front with both hands and yanked the blouse off your shoulders. You wiggle out of the shirt and drop his pants and briefs as he removed his uniform top.

Now you were both ravenous for eachother just yanking off articles of clothing and throwing them carelessly onto the floor. Finally when he slid your panties off, a devilish grin graced his face when he saw how wet you were for him.

He looked at you roguishly as he glided two of his fingers up and down your drenched slit.

“Is this all from me?” His gruff honeyed voice had you melting in his hand.

You nod without breaking eye contact. He crawled over you, caging you in between his brawny arms. As his hardened dick rested on top of your center, he started to grind into you, coating the tip of his cock with your slick between your folds.

You couldn’t help but arch your back, rhythmically moving your hips with his to feel him rub against your clit. Your needy sighs spurred him on, knowing he was making you feel so good.

“Oh my God, Toye-“

“No. No more ‘Toye.’ I want to hear you say my name.” He commanded.

You stare at him.

“Fucking say it.” He ordered.

“Joe…” you breathed as you playfully nip at his lower lip, greedily locking onto his mouth.

He lifted you by the ass and pushed his length through your dripping entrance with one fleeting thrust forward.

You gasp then wrap your legs around his waist, waiting for the ride to begin. Joe unleashed over a year’s worth of pent up rage and frustration from the war onto you, railing into you in almost a deliciously painful pace. He was rough, and aggressive, yet attentive and sensual.

He sat up resting on his heels and angled you closer into him by hugging your thighs against him and driving into you, hitting that spot that had you edging to your finish.

He feels your walls constricting around his cock, and starts to slow his tempo. You look at him with a pout.

All you could manage was a strained, “Why?”

He pulled out and hastily flipped you onto your hands and knees. He reached around your front under your arms once again grabbing your throat with his perfect hand. He pulls you back until your back was flush with his chest.

He guided the back of your head to rest on his shoulder before he turned to your ear.

“You think that fucking Fox Company chump could’ve done this for you?” He hissed.

You feel his grip constricting your neck. You’re so fucked out you can’t help but laugh.

“Fucking answer me, sweetheart. You think that asshole’s got anything on me?” His voice rumbling in your ear like thunder.

You start to pant, your bare chest and peaked nipples heaving from overstimulation and restriction of oxygen.

“No, Joe. Never.” You huffed.

You feel his lips curl into a smile against your jawline. He nipped at your ear.

“That’s right, baby.” He purred before he thrusted you forward on all fours.

He lined his dick up with your slippery pussy and entered you with a sweet push forward until he bottomed out. He plummeted into you, spanking you occasionally while his hips slammed into you.

“My God, Joe.” You moaned pushing back into him so he can get inside you as deep as possible.

“Yeah, scream my name so all Fox Company can hear.”

He had a vice grip on your waist, guiding you back everytime his hips came forward. The slams of his front against your ass grew steadily louder with groans and grunts between the two of you.

His stride began to stagger, and you could feel him pulsate inside you.

“I’m getting close, sweetheart.” You hear his low rugged voice from behind you.

“Me too, Joe.”

“I know, I can feel you squeezing on me. Let go, baby.” He hummed.

He reached around finding your clit and began rubbing hard circles onto the bud.

You close your eyes and focus on the sensation of where his hands were and the throbbing of his cock inside you then hearing his voice roar,

“Come on, baby, let go for me.”

He chased your orgasm until he felt your walls fluttering around his cock. You throw your head back practically howling as ropes of Joe’s cum released over and over again inside you. A guttural grunt left Joe’s lips as he groped your ass to have something to hold onto to steady himself.

Sweat glistened on his chiseled torso while he caught his breath. He snatched the hand towel by the basin next to the bed to clean you up after he pulled out. He plopped onto the bed next to you, pulling you into him to hold you.

You each sigh, content and relaxed in eachother’s afterglow.

“Your little bunny friend is going to be heart broken.” You joke.

Joe chuckled, “Yeah, I have that effect on people.”

You giggled.

“I got my girl right here.” He added.

Joe looked down adoringly at you with your head on his shoulder, sensing his eyes were on you, you look up at him. He gently kissed your lips, then rubbed his nose on the tip of yours.

~~~~~~~

[nocternalrandomness]

WASP Pilot Deanie Parish in front of her Republic P-47 Thunderbolt at Tyndall Air Force Base - 1944

[hard--headed--woman]

Rose Valland !

She was a French Resistance fighter who rescued and recovered more than 60,000 works of art and cultural property stolen by the Nazis from public institutions and Jewish families during the German occupation!!! For that, she was nicknamed "Capitaine Beaux-Arts"

Rose was born in 1898 and died in 1980. Although she never spoke publicly about her private life and sexual orientation, she never married, and the only relationship she ever had was with a woman.

She was able to study thanks to her mother, who applied for grants for her daughter. In 1914, she entered the École normale d'institutrices in Grenoble, graduating in 1918. Gifted for drawing and encouraged by her teachers, she left to study at the École nationale des beaux-arts in Lyon.

She gained a good reputation there, because she was talented and serious, and won a lot of prizes! In 1922, she entered the École nationale supérieure des beaux-arts in Paris. She then passed the competitive examination for teaching drawing, coming 6th out of more than 300 candidates.

During the 1920s, she studied art history at the École Pratique des Hautes Études, the École du Louvre and the Institut d'Art et d'Archéologie. In 1931, she obtained her diploma from the École du Louvre on the evolution of the Italian art movement up to Giotto. At the Institute of Art and Archaeology at the University of Paris, she obtained three postgraduate certificates in modern art history, medieval archaeology and Greek archaeology. She was so intelligent and cultured, with so many diplomas, it's impressive! She published some studies and articles too, and she even learned to speak some languages like German without even studying it.

From October 1940, at the request of Jacques Jaujard, Director of the Musées Nationaux, she remained at the Musée du Jeu de Paume, officially as a curatorial attaché, unofficially instructed by Jacques Jaujard to report to him on the actions of the Germans, who had just requisitioned the museum to store works of art extorted from private collectors.

During the Occupation, the Germans began systematically looting works from museums and private collections across France, mainly those belonging to Jews who had been deported or had fled. They used the Jeu de Paume museum as a central depot before sorting and directing the works to various destinations in Germany, Austria and Eastern Europe. During the Nazi looting, Rose Valland discreetly recorded, as accurately as possible, the movements of the works passing through the Musée du Jeu de Paume, the names of the looted victims, the number of works, their destinations, the names of the agents in charge of the transfers, the names of the transporters, the marks and writing on the crates, the numbers and dates of the convoys, not forgetting the name of the artist, the work and its dimensions.

For over four years, she kept track of all the works' movements, origins and destinations. She scrupulously drew up dozens of index cards, deciphered German carbon paper discarded in the museum's garbage cans, and discreetly listened in on the conversations of Nazi officials. She provided the Resistance with essential, detailed information on the trains transporting the works, so that these convoys could be spared by the Resistance. In autumn 1944, she gave the Allies the names of German and Austrian depots (Altaussee, Buxheim, Neuschwanstein, Füssen, Nikolsburg, etc.) to avoid bombing, secure them and facilitate the recovery of stored works.

After the liberation of Paris by Allied troops, and until May 1, 1945, she worked with SHAEF (Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force), providing the Americans with vital information on storage sites for works transferred to Germany and Austria.

From May 1945, she was seconded from the Ministry of National Education to the Ministry of War, then from 1946 to 1952, seconded as a 3rd class administrator to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, occupying the Secretariat of State and then the General Commissariat for German and Austrian Affairs. Nicknamed "Captain Beaux-arts", she was appointed Captain in the 1st French Army, while also serving as Head of the Service de remise en place des œuvres d'art (SROA) within the Public Education Division of the French Group of the Board of Control.

She was sent to the various Allied occupation zones, British, American and Soviet, from where she repatriated a large number of works. She cooperated with American agents to conduct investigations and interrogate the Nazi officers and merchants responsible for the looting.

She played a decisive role in the February 1946 Nuremberg hearings on the plundering of art by Nazi leaders.

Between 1945 and 1954, she took part in the repatriation of over 60,000 items of French cultural property taken from public institutions and persecuted Jewish families.

Her courageous and heroic actions during the war and post-war years earned her numerous French and foreign decorations. In fact, Rose Valland was one of the most highly decorated women in French history.

She was :

-> made an Officer of the Legion of Honor

-> made a Commander of the Order of Arts and Letters

-> awarded the French Resistance Medal

-> awarded the Medal of Freedom, the highest civilian decoration in the USA

-> made an Officer of the Order of Merit of the Federal Republic of Germany

-> awarded the Latvian medal of the Order of the Three Stars in recognition of her involvement in the Latvian Art Exhibition (painting, sculpture and folk art), held at the Jeu de Paume from January 27 to February 28, 1939.

Unfortunately, as is often the case with women in history, the role she played in the Resistance, protecting French works of art and the property of deported Jewish people, was quickly forgotten, and her name is hardly ever mentioned today when this part of history is evoked. Insane, when you know everything she's done and how many decorations she got...

At an undetermined time, perhaps in the post-war years, Rose Valland met the British woman Joyce Heer, secretary-interpreter at the U.S. Embassy, who became her lover until her death. The two women shared an apartment on rue de Navarre in Paris. Rose Valland reserved a place for her beside her in the family vault.

Rose Valland died in 1980 at the age of 81 in a nursing home in Ris-Orangis, outside Paris. She is buried with her lover in the family vault in her native village of Saint-Étienne-de-Saint-Geoirs, where the secondary school and a square bear her name.

She truly was a hero, and I wish we talked about her more !

[radykalny-feminizm]

On the anniversary of the Warsaw Uprising, it's important to remember the remarkable role that women played in this tragic and heroic event. Thousands of women participated in the uprising, which began on August 1, 1944, taking on various roles, from frontline soldiers to medics and couriers.

The Roles of Women in the Warsaw Uprising:

Soldiers: Women fought on the front lines, often alongside men. They were members of regular units of the Home Army as well as spontaneously formed volunteer units. Many women, who had been involved in underground activities during the occupation, took up arms to fight for the freedom of the capital when the uprising broke out.

Medics and Doctors: Women made up the core of the medical staff. They worked in field hospitals, providing aid to the wounded, often under extremely difficult conditions. They frequently risked their lives to evacuate the injured from under fire. Their courage and dedication were invaluable, and some were posthumously honored for their heroism.

Couriers and Messengers: Couriers and messengers played a crucial role, carrying orders, messages, and supplies between units. They often moved through areas under fire, exposing themselves to great danger. Without their invaluable services, communication between units would have been significantly hindered.

Women in the Resistance Movement: Even before the uprising, many women were involved in the resistance movement, engaging in underground education, publishing activities, diversion, and sabotage. Their work was crucial for organizing the armed action.

Notable Women of the Uprising:

Among the women who fought in the uprising, several stand out, such as:

Krystyna Krahelska ("Danuta") - a poet, medic, and author of the song "Hey Boys, Bayonet on the Gun!". She was rescuing a wounded colleague when she was shot three times in the chest and died on August 2, 1944.

Anna Zakrzewska ("Biała Hanka") - served with the Polish underground army as a courier and a medical orderly. She was killed in the course of desperate combat during the Uprising.

Elżbieta Zawacka ("Zo") - one of the few female paratroopers of the "Silent Unseen" (a special forces unit), a courier, later a brigadier general. She survived the war and died in 2009 at the age of 99.

Wanda Traczyk-Stawska ("Pączek") - a marksman in the "Parasol" unit, later a psychologist and social activist. She is still alive and remains a prominent figure, advocating for historical memory and social justice issues.

[sjsmith56]

One Shots Masterlist

A Better Choice - Avengers AU - Bucky volunteers for a charity to help their Christmas fundraising. Quite fluffy

Aliens, Androids, and Wizards or The Best First Date Ever - An invasion by the big three interrupts Bucky’s date.

Always Bumping Into Each Other - A nanny and her charge seem to be wherever Bucky and the Avengers are during some dangerous situations.

Amends - Bucky makes amends to someone for the loved one he killed and the loved one he didn’t kill but felt responsible for.

Another Time - Bucky as the Winter Soldier, experiences breaks in his programming that allows memories to filter through. Some memories are true but some are not.

Bucky Barnes, Deadpool and the TVA (or How I ended up inside the fourth wall) - A Bucky Barnes fanfiction writer finds herself in the same universe as the Thunderbolts* Bucky when she wakes up in his bed.

Cold Hearted - AU - A marriage of convenience between the son and daughter of two CEOs leads to friendship and more.

Faces of Bucky Barnes - An interaction with the multiverse affects Bucky Barnes during a tough time in his life.

How I Really Feel About You - Bucky, his girlfriend, and the Avengers watch the Pride and Prejudice movie.

I Won’t Watch You Die - 1940s AU. Bucky and Steve, caught during a bank robbery are given the opportunity to become part of a special unit for the Strategic Scientific Reserve, formed to fight HYDRA. Bucky’s wife is happy they aren’t in jail but she has her own fears of what could happen to her husband.

Island Recluse - Avengers AU - A woman writer tries to track down Bucky after he retired from the Avengers to claim a $10 million prize.

It’s Been a Long, Long Time - Avengers AU - Bucky has a recurring dream about a woman he connected with in WW2 who died in his arms.

It Takes Two - AU Bucky meets a recently divorced woman as they both enter the same bar, learning they have something very specific in common.

Letting Go - A bomb traps Bucky in the rubble of a building and he contemplates letting go because his critical injuries will likely kill him before he can be rescued.

Level 42 - A former guard from the Siberian HYDRA facility tells Bucky a secret that sends him back to the structure to find someone.

Make Believe - Bucky’s cover is blown on an undercover mission and he tries to get out of town with the help of two civilians.

Making It Clear - Bucky’s live-in girlfriend is subject to bullying and gaslighting by another agent while he is on long missions. Then Bucky finds out.

Motivation - Avengers AU. Bucky has a meet cute with a woman and makes plans to meet her again. When he gets back to the Tower he learns she’s been kidnapped.

Neighbourly - Bucky meets his new neighbour but it doesn’t go well at first.

None Shall Sleep - Bucky helps his new neighbour out, learning about her love of opera.

On the Road - Bucky takes a witness to a murder on the road to keep her safe. Over the long trip, they become close.

Promises Kept - Bucky, visiting a movie set, has issues with the stunt double portraying him as the Winter Soldier.

Resolutions - Friends with benefits becomes something more. New Year’s Eve fluff.

Sergeant Barnes - Set in WW2 when the Howling Commandos have leave at their British base. Bucky prepares for a dance.

Still Friends - Two years after breaking up, a woman calls her ex-boyfriend, Bucky, for help after her current boyfriend assaults her.

The Gift - Avengers AU - The Winter Soldier experiences his only Christmas as an individual with the Avengers before Bucky’s missing soul is reunited with him.

The Important Stuff - Bucky gets up to feed his infant son and takes advantage of the bonding moment. Very sweet and fluffy.

The Old Familiar Places - Bucky Barnes is impressed with a Broadway performer on opening night and shows up every night to hear her sing I’ll Be Seeing You. Fluffy.

The Recruit - A former special forces operative is recruited by Sam and Bucky but they have to get past her trust issues first.

The Rules - One shot AU. A mobster’s daughter meets the love of her life but The Rules get in the way of it developing into something more.

The Way Station - Bucky waits out a heavy fog at gas station restaurant where he is confronted by a man with an agenda.

Torn Stocking - WW2 Bucky makes an impression on a woman at the Stark Expo dance after she tears her stocking.

Which Bucky Am I Writing Today? - A Bucky Barnes fanfic writer receives help from three different Bucky’s in her WIPs. Mature themes, minors DNI, for readers 18+.

You’ll Never Know - Non-canon. Bucky meets a Wren upon his arrival in Liverpool in June 1943. Their initial flirtation becomes much more by Christmas, 1944.

Main masterlist

[kiwi-channn]

Masterlist

Simon Ghost Riley 💀

Feel your love (part1 - part2 - part3)

Spoiled kitty

In your warmth

Comfy evening

Just a drawing (part1 - part2 - part3 - part4)

Stubborn love

Falling petals (part1 - part2)

Angeles like you, Love

Captain John Price 🚬

Scared to love (part1 - part2)

little talks

Larry Johnson 💤

Lost crush

(p.s. a little intro about kiwi-channn : I am a 22 fem.. and I loveee cod... So much... And also loves Sally face game, a few other games too, anime, manga, cartoons ... And I love marvel and DC.. I also practice English through writing actually, as it's not my first language :⁠-⁠D so excuse my mistakes... Another thing is that I only write angst or fluff or whatever.. just nothing that minors can't see)

[labyrinthofstreams]

Trees die differently than people. Trees look as if they enjoyed their dying. It's true, spring will return and again they will burst into bloom. But as you well know, one can never be sure. And how can trees know that? Surely for them every fall is the last one.

Halina Poświatowska, Story for a Friend

[iceman-kazansky]

4 times Donald Malarkey Wanted to kiss you , the one time he did.

Pairings: Donald Malarkey x f!reader

Requested by: none, just an idea I had :)

Warnings: Bastogne, Mentions of depression, character death, Donald being flustered, uhh tons of switches of POV's but just read it and be happy.

A/n: reallllyyy didn't like this. I mean, I like the Toccoa part (#1) but I felt like it gradually decreased in quality as it went on. Also, my first ever band of brothers fic so be weary.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

1. Close call in Toccoa

Malarkey, shamefully, had noticed how much his thoughts were about you. He found you occupying his mind about anything and everything. Something you said yesterday, your smile when Luz had mocked Coronel sink, your eyes and how they shined in the dark moonlight during the notorious night march, your hands when you'd accidentally brushed your knuckles against his during breakfast this morning.

All the little things nobody else would care to notice Malarky cherished like it was religion. Of course, Malarkey's best friends, Muck and Penkala, had caught wind of his obsession when he spoke just a little too much of the woman within the company.

They teased him for it, as all friends do when they learn their best bud is crushing a little too hard on a girl.

Sitting in the cafeteria, Malarkey was subject to that teasing. "Whatcha dreaming about larkey'?" Warren asked, a cheeky smile stretched across his face.

"You already know it's Y/n, so why'd you ask?" Alex was quick to respond, Warren nodding in fake thoughtfulness.

"I imagine Malarky sits and dreams all about kissing Y/n. I saw him staring at her yesterday. Ain't that right Malarky? What were you thinking about then?" Warren's smile grows even larger and he puckers his lips, "mhmm" He groans with a mock high-pitch voice, "y/n, Please kiss me! You're so pretty! I really, really love you y'know!"

The ginger flushes red from embarrassment, Although, Donald won't lie to himself, he does think of the softness of your lips more than he'd like to admit… but that wasn't the point. He thinks to himself while he swats his friend harshly from across the table, trying to shut him up before the whole company learns his secret. "Can it, will you?" He whisper-yells, kicking Warren in the shins full force to which causes the blond haired boy to exclaim in agony.

"It's true! I swear, you probably think about kissing her–" Warren is cut off by a very familiar voice and Malarkey's stomach drops in fear.

"Who's thinking about kissing who?" You say, plopping down in the seat next to Malarky innocently, while the poor ginger turns as red in the face as his hair on his head.

Theres a few beats of stunned, awkward silence before finally Alex answers "Malarky thinks about kissing-" Donald shoots him a warning glare and a hard nudge of his foot, "-Margaret. Yeah, a girl back home whom he knew. A real broad, that one."

Malarkey doesn't notice the way your face falls at the mention of someone at home, "Y-yeah" He stutters out. "Margaret. Real pretty." Or the way you go silent and your shoulders slump.

"Sounds real nice." You half mumble while you shovel a spoon of oatmeal in your mouth.

Muck and Penkala glance at each other with looks that say 'oh fuck' while everyone resumes eating breakfast in an awkward silence.

Oh fuck was right.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

2. Thunder and flash

Malarkey hit the ground with a thud, his white parachute settling on the ground behind him while he worked on cutting himself free and condensing the fabric into a tight roll.

It was dark, with sounds of gunfire in the distance. A rustle in the bushes caused Malarkey's head to snap in that direction. "Thunder?" He called out hesitantly, cautious not to be too loud.

The bush moved, followed by "flash" in response and a silhouette stepped out.

With the limited lighting Malarkey was squinting to see who he had reunited with. Was it Liebgott? Toye? Winters? Was it you?

It didn't take long to get an answer when the person made themselves known, stepping into a thick beam of moonlight, face illuminated by the white light.

Malarkey was beyond relieved. He had found you. Even better, still alive and breathing. He doesn’t know what he would've done had it been your body, strung up in the branches of a tree.

"You're alive." He all but whispered.

"What'd you think was gonna happen? Really thought the Krauts got the better of me?" You chuckle, a warm smile on your face, "Have a little faith, will you?"

Oh how he wanted to cup your cheeks and kiss you.

Malarkey wanted to reach forwards, grab your face with his hands, and plant his lips on yours. He wanted to show you how worried he was. How sickeningly scared he had been that you were dead before he'd even jumped from the plane.

There is a silence while you move to embrace each other, eyes staring into one another's in an emotion you both can't quite name, something you'll find out later when feelings unravel themselves.

Malarkey doesn't notice the way you both subconsciously had begun leaning into each other, faces inching closer. A thought flashed across Malarkey's mind. He could kiss you. He could ruin his friendship.

Little did he know, none of that would need to be decided as A voice calls from the bushes "Thunder?" immediately met with you calling out a quick 'flash!' And pulling away.

Begrudgingly, Malarkey realizes he must find easy company, there's no time to sulk, he finishes packing his parachute into a tight ball and stands to join you and the new soldier they joined with.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

3. Drunken confession in the times after Carentan

The bar was deafening and unorderly. Soldiers of all ranks and ages were drinking, a golden yellow ale were being thrust into the air in cheer over the recent win in Carentan.

Malarkey and his best friends, Warren Muck and Alex Penkala were seated in a small booth towards the back of the bar with each of them having an ale on the table.

Malarkey excuses himself, going to grab another drink, he blows a sigh through his lips and begins pushing himself through the mass of people and to the bar.

When he finally got to the counter, two bartenders were rushing between calls for another beer. He was going to be here for awhile.

While standing patiently waiting for a drink, a figure approaches. Malarkey recognizes it as Lieutenant Winters and immediately is straightening himself out when he approaches. "Sir?" He questions when the red-headed lieutenant stops in front of him.

"Malarkey. I think it'd be best for sergeant Y/n to be off for the night. Except, she won't listen to me."

Donald smiles at the Lieutenant, peeking over his shoulder in the direction he came, sure enough seeing a drunken you, half asleep and nearly falling off your chair. "Will do, lieutenant."

"Have a good evening, Malarkey." And with that the man was off.

Making his way over to you, the ginger tapped you on the shoulder gently, prompting a grunt in response. "C'mon y/n, we gotta get you to bed."

Attempting to stand you nearly topple over, Malarkey's hand reaching out to grip your forearm, a giggle escaping your drunken lips. After stumbling out into the warm summer air and across camp, Malarkey had you nearly in bed and was ready to leave you to your own.

He draws in a deep breath and leans down hesitantly. Malarkey places his lips lightly on your cheek for a moment, hunched over your half-asleep form.

Moments pass where you stay like that before he whispers a soft "good night" and exits the room promptly.

when he leaves he can feel the giddiness running through his veins, a smile pulling itself onto his lips.

Oh god he was in for it.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

4. Bastogne; frozen hell

Malarkey wasn’t sure what to do anymore. There was a dull ache that filled his chest, a sensation that he could only describe as a leech sucking the life straight from the organ that pumped blood throughout his body. He was a man stranded on an island, unable to get off.

Muck was gone. Penkala was gone too. Gone as in, He’d never talk to them again. Bodies blown into oblivion by a direct hit of a mortar. If he’d known the last words he had spoken to them would've been so soon, he would have told them a whole lot more. Told them how good of friends they had become and how dear they had become to him. But he'd never get that chance because they had been taken from him all too soon. Like a bandaid being pulled off a fresh wound, much to early to fend off the infectious depression threatening to poison him from the brain. Kill him with his own emotions.

Oh god, he wanted to break down. He wanted to be held in the arms of the person he loved. Wanted to cry so hard all his worries went away. But Malarkey wasn’t supposed to do that; wasn't allowed for he was a man in a time of war.

Malarkey was perched on the edge of the cot he was assigned, elbows resting on tired knees and supporting his head while he stared meaninglessly at the floor. His eyes traced over the brown cracks etched into worn floorboards, following each individual splinter and fissure, curious to where they ended up.

“Malarkey?”

He knew it was you, in the back of his mind your voice clicked, but he didn’t have it in himself to look up or respond in fear he would break down. He didn’t want to seem so vulnerable in front of you.

“Don?”

Malarkey could feel a piece of his cold, lifeless gaze peel away with the soft mention of his name, the syllables falling delicately from your perfect mouth. And when he looked up, his crestfallen gaze meeting your concerned one, he felt the strong want to cry. The emotion must've crossed his face more prominently than he’d have liked, as something flashed in your gaze and immediately you were ready to comfort the grief-stricken man.

“Oh, Malarkey.” You say, breath no louder than a whisper, immediately seating yourself beside him on the bed and wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into the most delicate hug he’s ever had.

He finds it comforting how it reminds him of his mother back home. How she used to wrap him up in her arms and whisper sweet nothings into his ear when he would cry. Malarkey thinks about a lot of things while lying in your arms. He thinks about Muck, teasing him about something stupid he had done while Alex laughs from the side, adding on to the playful mocking they induce. He thinks about home, about his brothers John and Bob and his sister, Marilyn, or his mother and father, how they were all waiting patiently for his return to the states.

“I’m so so sorry.” You mumble into his hair, rocking the boy gently, “I know how much they meant to you.”

Malarkey doesn’t respond, he just cries silently into the comfort of your shoulder. He weeps onto your clothed arm, snot and wet tears soaking into the worn green fabric of your tunic– not like you mind.

When he feels like he's had enough, he's pulling away, red eyes puffy with tears and staring at you. "Thanks." It's quiet, such a low whisper before Malarkey is pulling away and standing up, leaving the tent.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

5. A broad named Margaret

Malarkey was done with war, done with the horrors forever etched into the fabrics of his very brain, done with firing a hot round of smoking gunpowder and bronze metal into a German's body and watching them fall to the ground.

He never thought he could have been happier when he received the news that the last of the German army surrendered.

The first thing he did was go looking for you, asking his fellow easy company boys if they'd seen you. After many, 'I Don't know, sir,' Liebgott was his savior and pointed out you were in a building just across the street.

Malarkey, bursting with joy, raced across the street and into the house, nearly running into you as he threw open the door.

He didn't even think, he just grabbed you and kissed you out of glee. He pulled away shortly after, barely recognizing the fact he probably ruined a good friendship out of his own moments of joy, and you looked like you were about to short circuit, pure surprise painting your face, "The Germans surrendered, the war's over!"

Malarkey is smiling down at you when your fist grab his collar harshly and yank him back down into a kiss.

He blinks in surprise, taken aback by your boldness, before melting into the kiss.

Yours and his lips move in sync, the world muted around the both of you, and the only sound was the beat of your hearts. The kiss was sweet as honey, soft and gentle, but full of love and affection. The taste of his lips lingered on yours, like a memory etched in your soul that you would never forget.

"Im sorry-" you splutter out shortly after.

"Sorry? About what?" Malarkey asks, a look of shock melting into his features.

"About Margaret– you love her, not me, and I just ruined that.. oh my God you probably hate me right now! Im just–"

Malarkey smiles and crashes his lips onto yours to silence your rambling, "You don't know how long I've wanted that." He whispers when he pulls away and leans his forehead against yours.

"B-but Margaret?"

"Oh silly," He chuckles, "Margaret was never real. We were talking about you."

"You were… thinking about kissing me?" A look of confusion paints your face while Malarkey laughs.

"Yes, sweetheart." He says before kissing you again.

If Malarkey thought he was happy about the end of the war, boy was he wrong. This made his whole life a greater place that he'd describe as a sunny meadow with white clouds scuttling across a vast blue sky and a colorful array of daisies and red eyed-susan's that blow gently in a breeze tainted with a smell of salt that wafts from the nearby ocean. That was his dream. To live there, in that place, with you. Luckily for him, the war was over, and you were both going home, together.

[skyrigel]

Simon's the guy who is nonchalant and a no-nonsense attitude, he's the man who doesn't care and absolute zero fucks and that's until missus comes along.

Now Simon's running around the house, bickering how you shouldn't skip breakfast and he's absolutely frowning when you side your greenies before he's holding your jaw and spooning them in, “Now be a good girl for me, won't ya' cupcake.” is all he says, tapping twice under your chin.

He's fussing over you, tucking you in scarves and caps and buttoning your coat because it's cold outside, “Can't see my pretty girl sick.” is all he says, bumping your nose.

John practically snorted when Simon pulled out your sneakers from your purse that he has been carrying, because he knew you're gonna whine about your pointy heels later, “Dance all you like babygirl” is all he says, bending down and removing those evil heels, then massaging your red ankle before he's sliding in your sneakers.

Oh, and yes he's gonna burn the whole fucking world if it meant to keep you warm, because he fucking cares only about missus.

Grim Reaper! Simon

Masterlist

[cid5]

A (89th Infantry Regiment - 12th Infantry Division) was found. She was surrounded near Valdai. Surrendered in Vitebsk.

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 1- The Age of Chivalry

Summary: You're reassigned to Easy Company when one of their medics was injured pre D-Day. You expect some sass from the Company since you'll be the only female soldier in 100 miles but never expected for any of them to befriend you.

Author Note: Mature audience, Joe LiebgottxFemMedic, WW2, Character introduction, Pre D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Y/N, L/N, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Military Terminology, Inappropriate Nicknames, Band of Brothers References, Mentions of Weaponry, Smoking, Story takes place Episode 1- Currahee

*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~

October 1943

It was never a good idea to mix a single female with a Company of deprived men in the Army...but here you are. You found out you were assigned to Easy Company 2nd Battalion 101st Airborne Division in Fall 1943 when they lost one of their medics to an injury. Although you trained separately from the males at Toccoa in the Divisional medical unit and were one of very few females allowed to work alongside men, you got along quite well with most of the guys. You held your own never asking for special treatment or never played the ‘damsel in distress’ card, so Easy Company learned rather quickly that you can keep up.  

~~~~~~~

You remember the day you arrived at Aldbourne, England to make contact with the boys of Easy Company. With your reassignment order in hand, you approach a group of soldiers sitting at a picnic bench outside a building. All of them looking a bit rough, but nonetheless smoking and joking with eachother. They take a pause as they notice you approaching them. Some of them sizing you up and down as you carry your duffel full of medical supplies and wearing fatigues that have yet to see the battlefields like theirs have.  

“Hey, you lost there, lady?” Private Roy Cobb called out to you, sizing you up again as you continued to walk towards them without faltering. 

You shoot the mouthy Private a look of disdain before responding. 

“I’m looking for Corporal Roe. I was told to make contact with him as soon I arrived.” You speak to the group as a whole. 

They all exchanged looks and a few whispers. 

Corporal George Luz stood up. 

“Why, I’m Eugene Roe. But around here they call me, ‘Doc.’” He declared confidently with a cocky grin. 

The others started to snicker. One laid a heavy pat on his shoulder showing his appreciation of the joke. 

You rolled your eyes, releasing an exasperated sigh. 

Sergeant Denver Randleman stood from the bench, then walked towards you pushing Luz aside shaking his head as he passed him. He was a larger man. Like a bear. Never removing the cigar hanging out of the corner of his mouth as he spoke to you.  

“He’s across the way this way, I’ll take ya to him.” He said, motioning you along in the opposite direction. 

“Thank you, Sergeant.” You reply. 

“No problem. And it’s just ‘Bull,’ ma’am.” He said politely in his thick Southern accent as he passed you leading the way.  

You turn on your heel and proceed to follow Bull, ignoring the distant whistles you heard from some of the men you just met behind you. 

~~~~~~~

“I hope the guys haven’t given you too much trouble so far?” stated the actual Eugene ‘Doc’ Roe when you crossed into the designated aid station. 

“Nothing I haven’t dealt with before, Doc.” You say with conviction.  

Bull chuckled, finding your response amusing. 

“Yeah, I bet.” Doc replied before continuing. 

“Well, let’s get you in processed here, and squared away. Thanks for bringing her here, Bull. I’m sure those other idiots would’ve just sent her to their barracks.” he said with a roll of his eyes. 

Bull nodded with a small wave.  

“See you at chow, L/N.” Bull called back to you before he left. 

When Bull returned to where the others were still gathered, they bombarded him with questions. 

“Did you catch her name??” Sergeant (Sgt) Don Malarkey prodded. 

“-is she coming to Easy Company??” Sgt Bill Guarnere interrupted before Bull could answer. 

“-did she say anything about me?” Luz questioned. 

As the interrogation got heavier, he threw his hands up and removed the cigar from his mouth. 

“GUYS!! Take it easy, will ya? You’ll see her later at chow, just don’t attack her with all of these questions right away, k? We don’t want to scare her off now, do we?” He explained as he replaced his cigar and walked away.  

They all swapped looks of excitement.  

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to have me a shower before dinner this evening.” Corporal Joe Liebgott stated while flicking his cigarette butt, rising from the picnic bench, shouldering his rifle. 

“Ok, Liebgott, like you have a shot.” Malarkey teased. 

Liebgott turned to him. 

“Oh contrare, I feel you underestimate me, Don.” He shot back at Malarkey while walking backwards, then turning back around. 

The group scoffed at him collectively. 

~~~~~~~

You got to chow early before any of the other men started to show up. You tucked yourself way in the back at a long table in the corner. You made sure to keep your head down, hanging over a tray trying to swallow some of the Army’s finest slop.  

“Should’ve just stuck to a dinner roll with margarine.” You whispered to yourself as you grimaced from the last mouthful of mystery meat from your plate. 

“Not exactly a high-end dish from The Ritz, now, is it?” Sgt Carwood Lipton joked as he sat down across from you with his own serving of slop. 

“Yeah, not quite.” You respond while poking at a hard, clay-like mound on your plate that was supposed to be mashed potatoes. 

“You’ll get used to it.” Bull stated as he sat next to you with his tray. 

You ‘psh-ed’ at Bull’s statement. 

“I highly doubt that. But I’ll make do.” You convinced yourself. “Surprisingly not the worst food I’ve had.” You added. 

“Really, there’s something out there worse than this?” Lipton asked astonished as he stirred his cold soup that looked like ketchup and water. 

“Oh yeah! Pixley and Ehler’s Diner on Clark Street in Chicago has some questionable selections.” You explained. 

“Is that where you’re from?” Corporal Frank Perconte queried as he sat next to Lipton. 

“I am.” You replied with pride. 

“You Italian then?” Guarnere asked, inviting himself to the conversation, sitting next to Perconte. 

“Italian and Irish.” You clarified. 

“Ssshh, a goddam Mick-Deigo.” Guarnere sneered crinkling his nose in disgust. 

“Leave’er alone, Gonorrhea.” Liebgott interjected sitting next to Bull. 

“I’m guessing you're Italian?” You directed at Guarnere. 

“Sicilian, actually.” He retorted. 

“Hm, you know that Sicilians aren’t real Italians, right? Sicily is just like Australia. All the criminals of Britain were shipped there to be ostracized from the mainland. Sicily is just an island of Italy’s delinquents.” You taunted. 

The others “ooooo-ed” in unison. Even Perconte who was the other Italian of Easy company. 

“She got you there, Guarnere.” Bull teased. 

Everyone laughed. Except Guarnere. 

“You think you’re funny?” Guarnere challenged. 

You sighed and looked at him deadpan in the face without an ounce of fear to show. 

“Come on, Guarnere, she was only dishing out what you gave her.” Perconte defended. 

“Shut your trap, Perconte, you should be on my side!” he said slamming a fist onto the surface of the table then pointing at him.  

The rest of the table filled up with remaining members of Easy Company that could fit that wanted to see the fight unfold. 

You folded your arms in front of you on top of the table and leaned forward, making sure you got Guarnere’s attention, then spoke with distinct fire in your voice. 

“You think I’m some dame just showing up here straight out of basic training not knowing how to handle myself with soldiers? I’ve been whistled at, barked at, howled at, catcalled, pinched, ass slapped, and manhandled by the worst of them, pal. You labeling me because of my heritage ain’t gonna do shit to me. But I’ll be damned you disrespect me like I haven’t earned the right to be respected. Just remember, I’m the one that’s going to be tending to you if you get shot in the field, sergeant.”  

You glare at him, then rise harshly from your seat, leaving the rest of the table in a state of awe and shock. 

“Good job, Gonorrhea. You pissed her off now.” Liebgott pointed out with an audible tsk. 

“Fuck her.” Guarnere spit back. 

~~~~~~~

As soon as you left the chow hall, you found a spot out of sight to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. You leaned against a post looking up towards the night sky taking deep controlled breaths. 

“Corporal L/N?” You’re startled by the voice of Lieutenant (LT) Richard Winters. You snap to attention ready to render a salute, but he waves you down. 

“As you were. Are you alright?” He asked as you relaxed your stance. 

“Yessir, just getting some fresh air.” You reassured. 

He looked at you with skepticism, not believing you were telling him the entire truth.  

You continued. 

“A room full of men who haven’t showered in a few days can make a gal lightheaded.” You joked. 

The corner of LT Winters’ mouth started to curl into a slight grin, trying his best not to laugh outloud at your quick wit. 

“I see, L/N. Well rest up, we’ll need you to be ready when we move out for the next mission.” He explained. 

“Yes, sir. Have a good night.” You replied. 

Winters gave a nod and entered the chow hall. 

LT Winters bee lined for his company’s table. His men all greeted him cheerfully as he approached the table. 

“Lieutenant, got a seat open right here.” Bull called out, gesturing to your vacant spot. 

“No thanks, Bull, I’ve eaten already.” Winters responded. He paused before he continued. 

“Just ran into Corporal L/N on the way in-” He paused again to assess the men’s reaction. 

Some continued eating, pretending like they hadn’t really heard. Lipton, Bull and Liebgott looked up at Winters waiting for him to continue. 

“She seemed somewhat troubled.” Winters finished. He waited for anyone to speak up, looking at the group expectantly. 

“Maybe her panties got all up in a twist, sir.” Guarnere offered up sarcastically. 

Some of the men chortled in response. 

Winters, Bull, Lipton, and Liebgott weren’t amused. 

“Well, she only said a room full of foul-smelling males made her dizzy and she needed fresh air.” Winters relayed, while looking at Guarnere suspiciously. 

The men all started to smell their armpits self-consciously. 

“Corporal Liebgott.” Winters called out. 

“Sir?”

“Get out there and escort L/N to her tent.” Winters instructed. 

“Yes, sir.” Liebgott acknowledged. 

“L/N will not walk around alone at night, gentlemen. I don’t care who goes with her, but make sure she always has a battle buddy in the hours of darkness. Tracking?” Winters asked, raising his voice authoritatively. 

The table responded “yes, sir” simultaneously. 

Liebgott rushed out excitedly and hustled down the street to catch you before you got too far. 

~~~~~~~

You were aways a bit ahead before Liebgott found you. 

“Hey, L/N! Wait up!” He called after you. 

You turned around looking for the voice calling your name. 

You stopped walking, waiting for Liebgott trotting over to catch up to you. 

“Can I help you?” You asked with a little more harshness in your voice than you intended. 

“As a matter of fact, I’m here to help you. I have the honor of accompanying you to your barracks.” He responded with enthusiasm and a smile. 

You were taken aback. You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Oh?” You questioned before continuing. “That’s quite unexpectedly chivalrous of you.” 

“Well, you have Winters to thank for that, it was his idea.” He responded quite bluntly. 

You rolled your eyes.  

“Hm, I see.” You reply briskly.  

Liebgott realized he sounded like an asshole right then. 

“Of course, if you approve, I’ll appoint myself your permanent battle buddy from now on.” He extended with his signature smirk as you resumed walking together. 

You felt your face heat up. You averted your eyes to the ground so he wouldn’t see you blush. But Joseph Liebgott doesn’t miss a thing. He grinned wider. 

“If those are the LT’s orders, then have at it, Liebgott.” You replied coldly. 

“Nah, that last part was my idea.” He stated proudly. 

You shot him a confused expression, then he winked at you. 

You laughed nervously, looking away quickly to break the awkwardness you felt in the pit of your stomach. 

He smiled at you affectionately.

“And call me Joe.” He added.

“Y/N.” You reply looking up at him through your lashes.

“Look, sorry if I’m making it weird. And don’t listen to Gonorrhea. He’s just a jackass with a height deficiency. The kid always has some stupid shit to say.” He explained. 

You nod trying to suppress a giggle. 

“This is me.” You announce as you approach the entrance to your sleeping quarters. You turn to face Joe. “Thank you for the chat, and the company, Liebgott…I mean Joe.” You say dotingly. 

“Forget it. So?” He asked. 

You were genuinely confused. 

“Sooo?” You reply. 

“Am I your permanent evening escort?” he asked with a grin and a wink. 

This time you laugh outwardly at his attempt at a flirty sexual inuendo. 

“If by ‘evening escort’ you mean my nightly walk to and from one location to another, I’d have to say....I’ll think about it.” You respond flirtatiously with a wink in return. 

His face lit up. 

“Well alright then. We’ll take another test run tomorrow night.” He proposed. 

You shook your head smiling, astounded by the level of confidence this man had. 

“Good night, Joe.” You finalized as you disappear beyond the threshold of the tent entrance. 

~~~~~~~

[nocternalrandomness]

"Free a Marine to fight" - Marc Poole Studios (2023)

This was an oil and canvas piece done in 2023 by Marc Poole Studios for the National Museum of the Marine Corps to commemorate the Women Marines during WWII. The scene is set at MCAS El Toro, 1944 and depicts Women Marine mechanics working on a Vaught F4U-1A Corsair fighter on the flight line.

[mastersoftheair]

So just to clear the air (and I guess my massive confusion) Harry never slept with Sandra, correct? I gotta say I need to read his memoir at this point as he is so intriguing to me, as well as masters of the air book, but like you said it’s a “blink and miss it” thing. I didn’t interpret it as anything more than having a few friendly conversations. It was more about emotional infidelity to me than physical, but given the circumstances and that exact heartbreaking point in time for Harry I can’t find it in me to blame either of them.

for me, ig i'm coming at my position from a place of bias. i'd read crosby's "a wing and a prayer" sometime in either 2021 or 2022 (those years blend together tbh), so i've had a lot of time to think about those 2 and their relationship and i lean towards "yeah, it likely happened" (this is a long response btw bc i'm quoting from the memoir):

crosby introduces his new friend, alexandra "landra" wingate (aka sandra westgate), in the chapter "learning about americans from the british" (this chapter was basically what we see in episode 6). moving on from this tho–

in the chapter "with landra in london", he expands on their growing relationship and the reader learns more about landra (she is genuinely Such an interesting person, and probably a spy). crosby writes about her with such admiration, regularly bringing up how smart she is. also, she's a captain!

this chapter's pretty important in how i formed my opinion on the matter. i understand the argument that the closeness of their relationship was intentionally left vague, but this chapter reads in a way that makes it feel Heavily implied despite not saying a lot (especially alongside crosby's emphasis on his wife jean being "four thousand miles away", as well as his own loneliness and despair wrt to all the missing and dead). there are some standout lines here:

-"I had Jean at home and Landra in England." (not a red flag, but it's a flag) -"I started seeing Landra every time I could." (cool) -"All I knew was that [Landra] was making my life much more endurable." (also cool) -"I did not tell Jean about Landra." (the last sentence of the chapter. it gave me pause and almost instantly reshaped the way i viewed that whole chapter)

the next chapter, "r&r with jean", crosby recalls how much the war took a toll on both him and his relationships. for a time, jean wrote more letters to croby than the other way around ("I began to skip writing to her."). i assume crosby must've been radiating Exceptionally negative energy bc he gets told this: "Croz, we can't stand to have you around. We want you back, but we want you to go home for a while." (i found the phrasing here really funny tbh. your vibes Suck! just Get Out of here!!)

so, crosby contemplates seeing jean again, wondering how both of them may have changed. he also brings up landra, for Some Reason: "What would I think of her? Protected in the States as she was, how would she compare to Landra? Now that I had grown so much, had such experiences, how would Jean and I fit together?"

the rest of the chapter Is about meeting and catching up with jean, however, and you can tell that he loves her a Ton. it's very sweetly written (he also basically ends the chapter saying "btw, we conceived our first child ;) ")

the final chapter about landra is "london junket" which begins with "When I returned from the United States and my idyll with Jean, I knew I had to do something about Landra." i think that sentence alone is pretty damning. if landra was just a friend, why would you be anxious about calling a friendship off? is it a guilt thing?

the context here is that crosby feels Far less lonely and depressed. he's met up with jean, life in london is finally "a delight". i found that important bc it gives me the impression that crosby desperately wanted companionship (possibly of two kinds), and he found that in landra– a friend and a maybe a [REDACTED]. now that he's having a great time with his friends in the 100th And he's met up with his wife, that itch's been scratched (that's just my opinion tho). bc of that, he decides to say goodbye to landra. they have this exchange:

"When a month passed after you were to return, and you did not phone me," she said, "I suspected that it was over. You found things good with Jean?" I told her about R&R in the U.S. I told her more about Jean. I told her about Stephen Patrick, Jeffrey Allen, or Evalyn. "When I realized you were gone," she said, "I no longer said no to a nice American at my office. I have been with him several times. I like him." (interesting) "I’m glad." (also interesting) "He is not married, He is not so dashing as you, but we have good times together." Me "dashing"? That was not my self-image. So much for Landra."

all put together (and with over 2 years to think about it), i Really kinda saw That Scene coming. but, like i said, i had that bias. and since i'd had a good amount of time to think about them, i came out the other end still excited to see them on screen. i found (and still find) landra a fascinating woman who must've had an exciting life (crosby's okay too ig lol). i also see them as a couple of imperfect, even selfish, 20somethings (speaking as an imperfect and selfish 20something). not to be corny, but "it takes 2 to tango". landra is Very intelligent, and crosby recounts how that aspect of hers left him in awe. she'd've 100% known the guy was married. and if signs point to her having had sex with the man, then she either made peace with it or simply didn't care (a lot of women are like that). plus, they're real people and real people contain multitudes idk. maybe some wife somewhere across the atlantic is hard to care about if you've never met her and never will. maybe it's hard to consider your wife's feelings in the midst of your own misery. a female character doesn't have to be wholesome and pure to be considered well-written. that certainly doesn't apply to most male characters. like you said, no one is perfect!

maybe, crosby left it vague out of respect to his wife. maybe it's vague bc nothing happened anyway (funny way to write it tho). maybe the wingate family wanted to avoid association with MotA bc it Literally didn't happen. or maybe they know it happened, but want to keep her name clean out of respect (who wants one brief relationship that happened 80 yrs ago to define you/your loved one decades later? that's 100% understandable). whichever the case, even crosby's kids are in a 50/50 split. i still lean towards "it happened", but it doesn't make me dislike either of them. they're flawed and i can respect that more than the show portraying either as picture perfect.

NONE of this is to say that i'm cool with cheating (or giving a "world war cheating pass", so to speak). while i find it realistic, it still wouldn't have been fair to jean, whether she knew about it or not (being a woman in the 1940s wasn't easy by any stretch). this Also isn't to dismiss anyone else's opinion on the matter, bc cheating on your partner is still a shitty thing to do. this whole spiel of mine is bc i like to share my opinions and i'm allergic to being concise. i write like i talk and on all levels except physical, anon, i'm giving you a long-winded rant over coffee and croissants lol

thanks for the ask!

[wiltedprayers]

LIFE magazine article on female pilots — July 19, 1943.

The time-honored belief that Army flying is for men only has gone into the ash can. At Avenger Field, near Sweetwater, Texas, girls are flying military planes in a way that Army officers a year or so ago would never have thought possible. These girls, who so joyously scramble into the silver airplanes of the Women's Flying Training Detachment each day, fly with skill, precision and zest, their hearts set on piloting with an unfeminine purpose that might well be a threat to Hitler. Each month scores of them complete their training in Texas and go to the Ferry Command to relieve fighting men for combat duty.