All Things Nice » Band of Brothers

52: Fragile

Posey nodded, recalling the event. "That seems a million years ago now," she commented quietly, just so that she could use her real voice and accent.

Bill glanced at her and watched her in profile for a moment. When she returned his look, he turned back to the front. "Yeah," he replied, nodding to himself. There was something cryptic in his eyes, something weighty lingering just beneath his words. "It does."

Posey studied him a moment, curious about his sudden thoughtfulness, before she decided that he'd forever be a mystery to her and, at this point, there was little use in trying to figure him out. Instead, she asked him, "Do you feel that maybe coming back here was a bad idea?" and searched his face as he took the words in. "I mean, I'm grateful for the break and not sleeping in a hole every night, of course. But I feel -" She shot a glance behind her, making sure the replacements separating the pair of them from the veterans in their squad were far enough away that they couldn't eavesdrop. "- almost more scared of combat now than I did before D-Day. Now that I know what to expect."

Bill glanced over at her, his eyebrows knitted tightly together over unreadable eyes. "You're scared?"

Posey shrugged, feeling bashful under his gaze all of a sudden. She didn't really know why she'd confessed this to him. Under the weight of his eyes she found herself wondering whether it had been a lapse in judgement. Finding her voice again after a moment, she bade him, "Don't tell anyone I said that."

Bill rolled his eyes and turned back to face the front, the rest of the squads of Second Platoon coming into view where they were gathered at the meeting point. "You're gonna be fine, Wells."

"How do you know?" she challenged, watching him closely as she worried at her bottom lip. The ghosts of tentative raindrops prodded at her skin and she only drew her eyes away from Bill to look up into the grey of the sky. "It's starting to rain," she said quietly, not entirely meaning to say it aloud.

"You'll be fine," Bill asserted, offering no explanation but also no room for argument. "You're a good shot. Now hurry up. I don't wanna get wet."

"How do you know I'll be fine?" Posey repeated, though she did pick up the pace. As the rain grew heavier, the entirety of their squad began to move faster across the field.

It became difficult to hear over the rushing of the wind and the sound of the rain falling over the top of it. Bill said something she couldn't understand. She had to squint through the rain to look at him. "What?" she asked, her accent and deepened voice making a reappearance now that she had to call out to him to be heard.

Bill leaned closer so that he didn't have to shout. "I said," he enunciated, his words coming out somewhat reluctantly now that he had to repeat them, "I ain't gonna let anythin' bad happen to you. Alright? Now hurry the fuck up."

Posey had to look away. She hid her smile in her shoulder. When she looked back at Bill he had his eyes set firmly forwards, charging through the rain with a purpose. That heart of gold of his liked to make an appearance at the most random of times, she thought. Yes, forever an enigma was Bill Guarnere.

When they got back to the barracks, they were told that the rest of the day's training manoeuvres having been cancelled due to the rain. As such, Posey dropped the superfluous amongst her pack and headed straight for the rifle range; heavy, constant rain was terrible weather for shooting with a scope and thus perfect weather for training. She was determined to go back into combat as prepared as possible.

She spent a good couple of hours at the rifle range, trying to work out ways to shoot using a fogged-up scope and ways to unfog it, both of which were mammoth tasks. By the time she was traipsing back to the barracks again, she was soaked to the skin and shivering. It was still summer, thank God, but there was definitely a bite to the air. Raindrops pricked her skin wherever they made contact and plastered her ODs to her wherever they didn't. She had to unstick the fabric lest her own anatomy should betray her.