Love You Till The End (Robert Zussman x Reader)

46 - Y/N L/N

December 25, 1944
Christmas Day
The Ardennes, Belgium, Luxembourg

That convoy Pierson said we'll be defending would soon be arriving. It was going to take a whole lot to make sure it can reach the Rhine. More putting up a fight, more bullets, and more lives.

If it weren't for the cold, our only worry would be how many Krauts we're going to have to push back in order to reach the Rhine, but we also have to worry about freezing to death. Sometimes I think I can handle the cold and I try to get the thought of it out of my head. Just when I think it's working, I'm back to shivering and focusing on the numbness of my hands and feet.

It doesn't help when there's snowfall because whether it's falling slowly or there's a snowstorm, the snow soaks through your coat eventually. That was our current situation as we sat in a trench we had dug a few hours ago, waiting for orders and shivering our asses off as the light snowfall began to pile up on our uniforms.

I was really missing that fire that we had been sitting around last night. It had come in handy this morning because the boys had used it to melt some snow for shaving before we started moving forward. We had been woken up early this morning, and because we hadn't set up camp, the boys didn't have to worry about packing up our things, so they used the small amount of free time we were given after breakfast to finally shave.

As I sat in the trench, I had my arms wrapped around my legs in order to keep them close to the upper half of my body. In fact, the boys were all in some sort of variation of that position. We were simply hoping it would create some more body heat to keep us from freezing to death. Even if it's not helping much, it's something at least.

I was sitting next to Zussman and I kept feeling his eyes darting my way. I know he couldn't stop worrying about me just like I kept worrying about him and the boys as I watched them shiver. All of our healths were at risk and since we had already seen soldiers die from the cold, that didn't make me feel any better.

I focused my attention on the cold dampness inside my boots and I was sure the boys were dealing with the same thing. We constantly have to worry about keeping our feet dry, especially since a lot of us have old worn-out boots, yet we don't always have the time to actually do something about our wet feet. We can't always spend time allowing our feet, our socks, or our boots to dry out because when we're waiting for orders, we have to be ready to jump up and do what we're told.

"Nice boots, college. They look new," Zussman said, his voice shaky. I looked at Stiles to see him tying the laces of his boots. Compared to mine, they were free of dirt stains, small tears, and scuff marks.

"Yeah...He poached 'em off some replacement*." Aiello spoke in a low voice. "Poor kid froze to death."

"If Pierson...wasn't so stingy with requisitions*, I wouldn't have to steal." Stiles tried to explain his actions, looking at Daniels. There was guilt in his face as he looked back down at his boots.

"It's okay. They weren't doing the replacement any good," Daniels told him.

"Where's that farm kid I used to know?" Zussman asked, observing Daniels.

"If you see him, give me a holler," Daniels answered in a low voice.

It hurt me to hear that exchange of words between them. There was once a time when Zussman and Daniels couldn't be serious around one another or they would talk about sports and favorite records and foods and memories and their lives back home and so much more that it was sometimes hard to keep track of their changing topics. Now, as I watch them losing more and more pieces of who they once were, I wish I could find those pieces they've lost and put them where they belong. That's something I wish I could do for all of us. After all, none of us are who we were before the combat, the sleeping in our own filth, the running away from death.