71: Lucky for You

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The day after Christmas Day, General Patton's 3rd Army broke through and relieved the 101st Airborne. When Charlie heard the news she assumed they'd be going back to Mourmelon for R&R. A foolish thought, in hindsight, because why would the Army send battle fatigued, exhausted, underfed, undersupplied, frostbitten soldiers away from the front line?

Instead, Easy Company was simply moved to a section of the Ardennes called the Bois-Jacques, overlooking the town of Foy.

Charlie didn't leave her foxhole unless it was necessary. She stopped going to visit her friends, stopped taking walks to see how Dog and Fox were doing, even stopped eating aboveground with everyone else. The only people she spoke to were the people who came to visit her - the other nurses, Floyd, Don, Alex, Skip, Alton, Shifty, occasionally Frank and George - and those she needed to talk to when she was tending to the wounded.

She didn't speak a word of what had happened in Bastogne on Christmas Eve to anyone, even when asked. She couldn't bear to. Charlie had experienced a lot of terrible things so far in the war but there were only two she refused to discuss; Christmas Eve had now joined D-Day in that list.

Charlie went without a helmet for four days before Boo took the helmet off of a patient she'd lost and gave it to Charlie. When asked, Boo told her she'd found it on the ground. Charlie hadn't believed her but she'd accepted the helmet anyway.

The barrages came less frequently in this part of the line, but they were still there. Still a constant, niggling thought in the back of Charlie's mind when she was aboveground. At any moment the world could burst into flame as she'd seen it do so many times now. At any moment she could be killed in one of the blasts. She supposed it was a good sign that she was still scared - if a time ever came when she wasn't she'd know she had reasonable cause to worry - but the fear made her feel sick. Her stomach turned with worry every time she went to relieve herself or answered the call for a nurse. If she'd had more food in her stomach she was sure she'd be throwing it all up at least three times everyday, but she didn't. Food supplies were dwindling again and they were back to rationing. Their water supply was scarily low. Ammunition and medical supplies had dropped right back down to how they'd been when they'd first come to Belgium. How quickly they came full circle.

New Year's Eve arrived with little fanfare, but there was relief in the lack of notable events. They'd had a barrage around dinnertime and suffered a few wounded, Joe Toye among them, but no deaths. All had been quiet since.

Charlie sat with Mabs, going over their supplies in the dying light of day, when Floyd interrupted them.

"Mabs, Babe's asking for you."

Mabs didn't look up at Floyd. Instead, she let her head fall forward and groaned dramatically. "That boy is constantly askin' me about his goddamn fingers. I swear, if he's gettin' me to check for frostbite again I'll cut the fuckin' things off myself."

Floyd chuckled. "I think we all know he's just making excuses."

Charlie glanced up. "Can you check on his cough while you're snuggling up to him, Mabs? He sounds like he's trying to hack up a lung."

With a scoff Mabs pushed herself to her feet. "I don't snuggle with Babe Heffron. He's much too sweet for me."

"No one's too sweet for you, Mabs," Charlie replied as Floyd took Mabs' place beside her. "Besides, I think you'd be cute together."

"Put a sock in it, darlin', 'fore I cut off your fingers, too."

Charlie shrugged, watching idly as Mabs disappeared into the fog on her way to Babe's foxhole.

"How ya been, Freckles?" Floyd asked as he shifted around, getting comfortable.

"Cold," Charlie replied, speaking into the fabric of her scarf and making it moist with her breath.

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