The Spirit of the Corps » Band of Brothers

30: More and More Familiar

She'd liked mornings, before. Not so much anymore.

The low rumble of the engine beneath her was doing wonders in helping to ease her to sleep. It was the bumpy roads that were the issue; every time she felt herself drifting off they would hit a bump in the road or swerve to avoid something, dead cattle more often than not, and she'd be jolted wide awake again.

Eventually, Charlie gave up trying. Her eyes no longer felt heavy after being wrenched awake too many times, and the wood beneath her back and head was beginning to get uncomfortable. Dragging herself upright, she lifted a hand to fiddle at the locket she still kept clasped around her neck at all hours of the day, the one she'd very nearly left on her nightstand at home. Inside, she knew there was a picture of her parents on their wedding day, though she didn't open it to look. Instead she found comfort just knowing they were in there, in some small way still by her side through all of this. Once she got home she knew they'd never be able to comprehend even half of what she'd seen, what she'd done, but for now she let herself find comfort in the fact that they were there with her after all.

After a few rounds of 'I Spy' with Mabs, Autumn, and Boo, Charlie supposed she must have fallen asleep. She woke to Mabs gently shaking her and lifted her head off of her shoulder, looking around at the countryside as it skidded past them in the darkness.

"When we arrive you'll need to dig foxholes immediately," Maddox started to lecture them. "That's your priority. We'll set up the tent for the hospital tomorrow once we know how long we'll be staying there."

Charlie shared a look with Mabs and the expression on her face made her grin. Whilst Charlie couldn't say she was looking forward to sleeping in a foxhole and working out of a grimy, haphazard old military tent, however badly she was dreading it couldn't even hold a candle to how much Mabs seemed to downright despise the very thought of it. Her nose was scrunched up and her lips were curled into an expression of such abject disgust it tore a giggle out of Charlie's throat.

"You've gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," Mabs mumbled, only loud enough for Charlie to hear. "Should'a stayed in fuckin' Carentan."

Charlie snorted. "What help would we be back there?"

Mabs just huffed. "Why couldn't they dig in close to a hotel or somethin'? Why'd they have to pick the middle of fuckin' nowhere as their final destination?"

Charlie had no answer for her, so she shrugged and turned to watch the scenery pass them by. It was pitch black by now, likely past midnight, and she could only make out silhouettes in the darkness under the limited light of the half moon. The breeze had picked up and gotten colder, stinging her cheeks instead of simply cooling the sweat on them. Charlie tugged down the sleeves of her fatigues for some extra warmth and crossed her arms over her chest, sighing as she watched the medical truck leading them take a left turn up ahead.

When the trucks slowed down, they dropped off the Fox Company nurses first, then continued on to drop off the Dog Company nurses. Eventually, the trucks slowed to a complete stop and turned off their engines.

Charlie smiled bitterly as she understood that Easy Company had been placed at the front of the advance. Because of course they had.

There was complete stillness around her, not a single sign of life. No guns firing, no voices speaking, not even any helmets bobbing above ground as curious soldiers took a peep at the trucks pulling up. Charlie couldn't be sure how far away they were from the front, but it must have been far for everything to be so still.

"Alright, Lieutenants, pick a buddy and dig your foxholes," Maddox ordered as she hopped off of the truck. Autumn and Boo disembarked next and Charlie and Mabs followed, quickly pulling out their entrenching tools and following Maddox over to where had been deemed a safe enough space to spend the night.

To her credit, Mabs didn't complain at all when they were digging the foxhole. Charlie wasn't sure if she had resigned herself to the idea of sleeping in the ground or whether she was just conscious of noise discipline, but either way she was certain they managed to get it done much quicker for the lack of any chatter.

By the time they were finished, Charlie's hands were starting to blister from clutching her entrenching tool so tightly. But the soil hadn't been that hard to shift, thankfully; it had clearly rained here not so long ago.

Charlie and Mabs settled into their hole in the ground just as it started to rain. Charlie groaned. Mabs cursed.

"Just delightful," Mabs muttered, shifting around in a fruitless attempt to get comfortable.

Charlie did the same. If nothing else, finding a position to sleep in which wouldn't end up hurting in the morning would be a small victory. "Just like England, right?" she said, using Mabs' words from their first day in Carentan.

Mabs let out a small, reluctant laugh. "Right," she agreed. "Just like England."

It had been a good idea to sleep on the journey over, for sleep didn't come to Charlie easily in their soaking wet foxhole. She knew she shouldn't complain; they were absolutely not the only people in the world having to suffer through sleeping in the ground at night - they weren't even the only people in a mile radius having to do that - but she couldn't help but remember her bed at home mournfully.

She'd known coming to Europe to help with the war effort would be a big change to what she was used to. She'd grown up as an only child of wealthy parents, so of course she'd known it would take some adjusting. And all of them had been warned in training, of course, that, if they were assigned to a field hospital, they'd be so close to the front line they'd have to sleep in foxholes on occasion. But being told as much and actually experiencing it were two very different things to grapple with.

But, of everything Charlie had seen and experienced in France so far, sleeping in the ground was the very least of the bad stuff. She could make it through the night, and however many nights like this came after it, without complaint. Because the others would do it without complaint. The soldiers would do it without complaint.

But when she dreamed she dreamed of her bed at home - the soft, fresh sheets, the heated room, the smell of breakfast floating up the stairs and under the door in the morning.

That was, until the ghosts inevitably invaded.

But the ghosts were becoming more and more familiar to her now. She figured it wouldn't be long before she became one herself.