All Things Nice » Band of Brothers

14: Guts

"Ready, Second Platoon," Sobel called out.

Posey's entire body tensed as she kept her eyes forward and narrowed on her foe.

When the whistle was blown, she ran for it.

Slow and steady may have won the race, but she needed momentum. After many attempts she knew she'd never make it up and over the wooden wall of doom without a running start. As soon as she was close enough she leapt for it and kicked wildly against the side to boost herself up. When her jump boots hit the grass on the other side of it, she couldn't help but let out a wild whoop; it was a blur, but she'd done it. Finally.

She was falling behind Skip already and could hear that the next pair had been sent to start the course behind them but she hardly cared. She'd beaten the first obstacle on her first try. This was unprecedented. Unchartered territory. She just had to keep going and try to do the rest of the course just as well.

Posey had always had little trouble with the tyre exercise. Her feet were smaller than everyone else's and her legs were shorter. Accumulated, this meant she could hop in and out of the gaps in the tyres quickly and precisely. She was on the other side and suddenly right on Skip's heels in no time.

Army-crawling through pig guts under a web of ropes was made a lot more difficult than usual with the helmets they were now forced to wear, but this was something she'd been practising. Hold your breath, keep your head down, just keep moving forwards, she recited to herself in her head. She'd always tripped herself up by trying to look ahead but yesterday she'd had a revelation; there was no need to look ahead, the only way she had to go was forwards.

After having to scale another wall, and then another but with a rope this time, then use a rope to swing over a particularly wide ditch, she had finished the course in her quickest time yet. Breathing heavily, sweating, and covered in fish guts, sure, but she'd managed it. Raw, unsaturated determination could do a lot for a person where physicality was concerned, it seemed, though deep down she knew she'd never have been able to do that at the beginning of bootcamp, no matter how determined she'd been.

As she reached the other side Skip offered her a high five, which she gladly reciprocated with a laugh. She was surprised by the pride which coursed through her at having finally beaten the course without Sobel screaming at her to start again at least three times per attempt. Maybe they'd make a paratrooper of her yet.

She giggled to herself to think it, and shrugged when Skip shot her a questioning look. She was saved by the arrival of Ramirez and Talbert, both of whom acknowledged her success with warm smiles and firm pats on the back.

"Nice one, Duckie," Tab said. He came to stand behind her and watched the men behind him work their way through the course.

"Finally beat that damn wall," she joked, watching Malarkey complain his way across the tires. "And it only took me - what? - two hundred attempts?"

"Better late than never," Tab replied with a laugh. He nudged her shoulder with his own and cheered as Liebgott jogged over to join them.

"I just got my fuckin' weekend pass revoked," Liebgott grumbled as he neared them.

"Why?" Posey asked. Tab only laughed.

"Threw pig guts at Luz," Liebgott replied. "I didn't realise Sobel was standing right fuckin' there."

"What did Luz say?" Tab asked with a grin as the man himself approached.

Liebgott smirked. "He threw 'em back."

"Can't believe I got my fuckin' weekend pass revoked," Luz remarked as he came to stand by them himself. "Fuckin' pig guts."

"I don't know how you can be bothered to go out after the Friday night marches anyway," Posey put in, chuckling to herself. The twelve mile marches in the pitch black every Friday night, in full pack as well, had been yet another evil added to their training after designations had gone out. After the first one, Posey had been more grateful than ever for her 745; she only had to carry her M1 as a weapon, whilst Luz had to carry a full radio strapped to his back along with it. Small victories.