The Undaunted

The Angel of the 11th Field Hospital

As much as she wanted to, on the day she was due to leave for Italy, Jenny wasn't able to avoid Warren Moore. He met her in the lobby at six in the morning and she tried to deflect everything he might say or do with an apology.

"I'm sorry about your promotion," she said honestly. "If I can speak to somebody to let them know that, as much as it wasn't my fault, it wasn't your fault either, then I will."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she had made a huge mistake. His face contorted, at first surprise, and then anger flared, covering up what might have been embarrassment, or indeed humiliation. Of course, he wouldn't want a woman to know of his failures, or for that same woman to then offer assistance in rectifying them.

"I don't need help from a model," he said slowly.

"I know that," she said quickly, wanting to leave. "I just..."

"Go to Italy, Miss Snow," he said suddenly, challengingly. "And just so you know, I didn't lose. I let you stay. It'll be more fun watching you leave in disgrace later, just when you think you've settled in."

"I don't intend to do anything disgraceful, Officer Moore," Jenny said, drawing herself up to modelish height, despite knowing that the best course of action would be to just ignore him, collect her bags and leave.

"I read over the War Department's screening notes. You won't be able to help yourself," Warren said with a smirk.

"Nothing in those notes was true," Jenny replied.

He laughed. "Well, that's a shame. Because I may have drunk a little too much last night and I may have let a few details about your fondness for the opposite sex and certain bedroom activities slip in front of the other correspondents."

And then, before she was able to let the full blaze of her fury unleash itself upon Warren Moore, his demeanor changed and he began to recite, blandly, a list of rules.

"Girl reporters must never put themselves closer to the front than the nurses in the field."

Jenny stared at him, bewildered by the swift shift of the conversation.

"Good work, Moore," another PRO, a sergeant major, said approvingly as he passed them.

"Thank you, sir," Warren replied obsequiously, falling into step with his superior and following him out of the lobby.

Jenny gathered her belongings and sat down to wait for Major Delaney, riled by everything Warren had said, but trying not to be. Thankfully Jack arrived and greeted her cordially as she seated herself in the jeep. He introduced her to the two men in the back, Private Casey and Private Owens, one blonde and blue-eyed with a bold, flirtatious smile, the other dark-eyed and shy. And both heartbreakingly baby-faced.

"They're replacements," Jack explained.

Jenny winced at everything the term implied. Jesus...they were just boys.

The two men gaped at her, then Casey, obviously the bolder of the two, gave her a suggestive hello and leaned forward to ask, "Say, aren't you..."

Jack squashed the flirtation with a dark look at his subordinate. The young private sat back with a disappointed twist of his lips.

As they pulled out onto the road, Jenny asked, "Shouldn't they be driving you? Don't majors get drivers?"

"As you found out in Italy, just because someone's driving a jeep, it doesn't mean they know where they're going. Those two haven't got a clue." Jack lowered his voice when he said it and she knew he didn't mean they were unsure of the route, but that they wouldn't be able to conceive of what awaited them in Italy.