Flanked by Johnny and Guarnere, Posey returned Teddy to the barracks before following the rest of Second Platoon to the mess hall. On the way there, she tried her best to liven herself up, if not in a bid to actually elevate her mood then to prevent the others from asking questions to which she didn't have sufficient answers. At any rate, she didn't want to discuss her unfortunate familial situation any further.
As always, the mess hall was alight with activity by the time they arrived. With Johnny in front of her and Guarnere behind, Posey slotted into the line for food and contented herself with people watching for the time being; after returning from Normandy queuing up for food had been a very quick process, though the arrival of the replacements had made it a much more drawn out affair.
There was an evident divide between veterans and replacements, as there always was, which mirrored, in some ways, the divide there had initially been between the platoons back in boot camp. As of yet, relations between the two groups were icy at best despite Posey's best efforts to warm them up, but the replacements, at least, had each other. Posey smiled sadly to recall when she hadn't had anyone, then laughed quietly to herself as Johnny made a comment which indirectly reminded her that she wasn't alone anymore. Much had changed since then.
Over at their usual table, Luz was already entertaining the masses. He gesticulated wildly as he recounted some story or other, his grin curling the edges of his words. Every now and again Skip would make a comment, and then so would Lieb or Tab from the next table over, and Luz would laugh uproariously before continuing on. Posey shook her head with a laugh as she watched on fondly, the noise of the room too loud for her to hear a word of what they were saying.
Her eyes slid over to some of the gathered tables of replacements, whose moods were significantly duller. Some of them watched the veterans interact with poorly concealed longing whilst others were engaged in conversations of their own, which were much quieter and less boisterous than the veterans'. Posey noticed Heffron sitting at a table of four, seeming deep in conversation with replacements she recognised as Garcia, Hashey, and Miller. She took the opportunity to turn back to Guarnere and point him out.
"Over there," she said, pointing at Heffron before checking to make sure Guarnere was following her gesture. "Red hair, on the table of four. That's Heffron. He's from South Philly, remember I told you?"
"Yeah," Guarnere confirmed, nodding as he studied the replacement, likely sizing him up. "I'll talk to him," he promised.
Posey nodded, "Good," before Johnny tapped her elbow to let her know they were finally at the front of the queue.
As always, the mess officer slopped the food unceremoniously onto each tray before moving onto the next, and whatever it was he was serving today, Posey had no idea. Still, it was warm and it wasn't a K-Ration, so that was good enough for her - the fussy eater in her had died the moment she'd set foot in Camp Toccoa, and, for better or for worse, it didn't seem likely to return anytime soon.
Johnny led their trio over to the table Luz was still holding court at and slotted himself in on the left side of the bench, so Posey took the right, beside Luz. Guarnere sat opposite her which made her roll her eyes, protective as he had become since France, but paid it little more mind. To Luz, she said, "What story are you telling today?"
Luz laughed. "I've been fillin' in Talbert here on what he missed."
From the table beside them, Tab spoke up, "Congratulations on the promotion, Duckie."
Posey grinned. "Thank you very much." Before she could say any more, a sharp crash just behind her had her attention drawn elsewhere. When she turned she found Smokey beginning to stand, though he'd knocked one of his crutches over in the process. Posey breathed a laugh and pressed a hand to her chest where her heart was racing. She stood to retrieve it for him.
"Thanks," he said once he'd secured it back under his arm.
Posey grinned. "No worries. Scared me half to death."
Smokey laughed. "And this from a Second Platoon combat veteran. Who woulda thought?"
Posey shook her head, chuckling to herself as she watched him amble his way towards the door. She took her seat once more and began to eat before Guarnere's voice drew her attention. "What's he doin'?"
She glanced up to find Smokey standing facing the room as though preparing to give a speech. Furrowing her eyebrows, she looked to the officers gathered just beside him curiously, for generally they were the only people who delivered speeches or made announcements in the mess hall.
As soon as the thought hit her, she shot a smirk at Luz. "I think he's after your job as self-proclaimed centre of attention."
"I wish," Perconte drawled from beside Guarnere.
Luz grinned. "I'll give him his five minutes of fame but after that he's out. No one can entertain a crowd better than ole George Luz."
Calls for quiet rang out across the mess hall so Posey turned back to Smokey again, though it took a few more moments for everyone else to settle down. Men began clapping for Smokey in preparation for whatever it was he was about to do and shushed each other over the top of the noise. "Hey, Hoobler! Be quiet for the man," Skip called out, making a cutting gesture at his neck to make the aforementioned stop talking.
Posey shared a grin with Luz before quiet fell across the converted barn.
Smokey let a slow smile spread across his face before he introduced his set. "The Night of the Bayonet." He paused for dramatic effect and scanned his audience before starting, "The night was filled with dark and cold..." Another pause and the makings of a wider smile pushed at his cheeks. "When Sergeant Talbert, the story's told..."
Posey began to giggle immediately, and she wasn't alone. All across the mess hall the veterans who knew of Tab's incident in the middle of the night in Normandy - which was, likely, all of them - burst into what was almost obnoxiously loud laughter.
Posey turned her eyes on Tab, who was bent over his table and shaking his head, likely out of embarrassment, and laughed anew.
"Pulled on his poncho and headed out," Smokey went on, gaining momentum from the crowd's enthusiasm, "to check the lines dressed like a Kraut."
"Not one of his finer ideas," Posey commented upon a pause in the story. She watched as Malarkey pushed at Tab's head playfully before slipping into the seat beside him.
"Aw, Duckie, we can't all be as smart as you," Luz quipped back.
"Upon a trooper our hero came," Smokey narrated, and everyone fell back into silence directly. "Fast asleep, he called his name: Smith, oh, Smith, get up, it's time to take your turn out on the line."
Posey's eyes flitted back to Tab to find him exchanging a glance with a rather sheepish-looking Smith. She giggled and nudged Luz so he would look, and they shared a laugh before Smokey continued.
"So very weary, he cracked an eye, all red and bleary. He grabbed his rifle, he did not tarry, hearing Floyd but seeing Jerry."
"Way to go, Smithy!" someone shouted from the back of the room, earning a round of hearty laughter.
"'It's me!' cried Tab, 'Don't do it!' and yet," proceeded Smokey, "Smith charged tout suite with bayonet. He lunged, he thrust, both high and low, and skewered the boy from Kokomo."
Smith's protests at the dramatisation of the story only served to add to its comedy.
Posey clapped wildly for Smokey as he took a couple of bows before a sharp movement in her peripheral vision drew her gaze. When she followed the movement, she found Guarnere with a hand pressed to Heffron's chest, something akin to a face-off taking place between them.
"Oh for God's sake -" Posey began to protest. This was not what she'd imagined when Guarnere had said he'd talk to him.
"You Heffron?" Guarnere asked, cutting her off.
Heffron shot a glance at Posey before looking back down at Guarnere, his face impassive. "Yeah."
"Where you from?"
"Who's asking?"
Posey grinned; she already liked Heffron but his refusal to be intimidated by Guarnere of all people had him settled firmly on her list of favoured people.
"You from Philadelphia?" Guarnere persisted.
"South Philly, yeah."
"It's like he doesn't believe a word I say," Posey muttered to no one in particular.
"Understandable," Johnny commented drily.
Posey gasped and turned to find him grinning. "I'll kill you," she mimed to him, just as Guarnere turned back to the table and gestured for Heffron to sit exactly where she was sitting. "Why can't he sit next to you?" she complained half-heartedly as each of them on her side of the table moved along to make space.
She might as well have not spoken at all, for Guarnere began questioning Heffron about their realised mutual friends immediately.
"Since you weren't wounded by the enemy," Smokey declared, turning all eyes in his direction once more, "and thus didn't qualify for a Purple Heart, we've taken matters into our own hands." Posey watched curiously as he unhooked one of the medals on his chest and held it up. "Tab, this is for you."
Posey couldn't help the exclaimed "Aw!" that burst out of her any more than she could help banging her elbows on the table as she clapped for the grand display of affection.
Luz reached over and jostled Tab's shoulder. When she turned to look, the hero of the day was finally smiling.
"I could have shot the kid a dozen times!" Tab shouted above the noise of claps and cheers.
"Yeah, right," Lieb teased from opposite him.
"I just didn't think we could spare a man," Tab insisted.
"What happened anyway?" Heffron asked, looking between Guarnere and Posey in turn. "What's the Night of the Bayonet?"
"Didn't you listen to a word the man said?" Guarnere retorted in his usual mocking tone.
"I'll tell you later," Posey promised Heffron as she watched Lip come to stand where Smokey previously had. "I think Lip's making an announcement."
"Couple of announcements, men," Lip began, proving her assumption correct. "First -" When the noise level didn't quieten, he persisted, "Listen up," before going on, "First, the training exercise scheduled for 2200 has been cancelled."
Claps and cheers burst into the air immediately. Considering what had transpired mere minutes before entering the mess hall, Posey could hardly believe how much her mood - and, it seemed, her luck - had changed.
"Secondly," Lip added, and silence returned at once, "all passes are hereby revoked." The pause he made was loaded. "We're heading back to France. So, pack up all your gear. We will not be returning to England, boys."
Posey's head spun as the words repeated themselves over and over again in her head. Still, Lipton pressed on, "Anyone who has not made out a will, go to the supply office. The trucks depart for Membury at 0700."
France and wills and Membury and tomorrow. Posey's thoughts rushed at her fast. "As you were," Lip's voice cut through them. She heard him as though from another room.
True to George Luz's other self-appointed title, designated morale-raiser, it was him who broke the silence. "Well that fuckin' sucks."
Posey managed a half-hearted laugh but kept her eyes glued to the table. When the pressure of eyes on the side of her head became too much, however, she looked up.
She gasped. "John."
"What?" Johnny asked, his eyebrows furrowing.
Posey shook her head. "No, not you." Whilst it was true that the sight of Johnny had triggered the thought, he wasn't the John she was thinking of. "My brother," she explained, her eyes almost frantic as she stared back at Johnny. "I've only seen him once since we've been back."
"Your brother's an ass anyway," Johnny replied, though she could tell he didn't really mean it - really, he was trying to ease the panic in her face.
"Maybe at the moment, but it's not his fault. And he's my family." She shot a quick glance out the door. "Do you think I could make it to the hospital and back in time? I don't know when visiting hours are but I know trains from London run late."
"London? What? Where's your brother?" Perconte asked, his eyes darting between Posey and Johnny.
Posey's jaw fell open, realising her mistake, but she recovered quickly. "In a military hospital just outside of London. He's a pilot, remember? But he got wounded so he's been in hospital ever since."
"Why don't I know about any of this?" Luz questioned from beside her. Posey couldn't meet his eyes just then and mustered a shrug; if he was hurt that he didn't know about this then she couldn't imagine how he'd feel upon finding out the real secret she was sitting on.
"Wells, I don't think you should go," Johnny said, cutting that line of questioning short. He was always ready and waiting for her to need him. "Trucks leave at 0700. How are you gonna explain why you're leaving?"
"Not that they'll let you go, of course," Skip put in. He'd been so uncharacteristically quiet since Lip's announcement that Posey had forgotten he was sitting there at all.
"Can't I at least try?" Posey asked, gnawing on her bottom lip. "He's my brother. He's..." Her eyes darted between those among them who didn't know just yet. She decided that she didn't care if they found out. "He's all I've got left," she said with finality, keeping her voice strong.
"When's the last train?" Guarnere wondered. Posey's eyes shot to him and must have given her away, for he grumbled, "I ain't sayin' I'm agreein'. I'm just askin'."
"The last train from London to here departs at 2311," she replied, her eyes set firmly on him now, awaiting the verdict. Whilst she thought highly of Johnny and wanted his permission, she didn't altogether need it. Guarnere, on the other hand, was not only her squad leader but her platoon leader, and his opinion held a lot more weight.
The air felt charged with electricity as all of the table's eyes turned on him, some expectant and others pleading.
Guarnere's eyes flicked from Posey to Johnny and then back again before he shrugged. "Guess we're goin' to fuckin' London."
"We're?" Posey echoed, her grin already making her eyes shine and lighting up her entire face.
Guarnere shrugged. "Well I ain't gonna fuckin' let you go alone now, am I? Can't trust you to find your way back in the dark." He looked between those gathered and leaned in close, staring them all down. "Not a fuckin' word of this leaves this table, you hear me?"
Each of them nodded. Posey beamed; in the time she'd known them, these men seemed to have done nothing but surprise her, and she'd always thought she loved and hated that habit of theirs in equal measure. Now, though, she thought her heart was about to burst out of her chest. These men were her family and she knew without a shadow of a doubt she'd do absolutely anything for them, just as, evidently, they would for her.