Operation Market Garden was already off to a bad start.
The company's first order of business once in Holland was to secure the town of Son and defend the bridge there so that the ground forces could cross over and begin the advance into Germany. All over Holland, paratroopers, American and British alike, were working to secure such towns and bridges for the ground forces. Unfortunately, they weren't going to be able to use this one.
Getting into and through the town had been easy enough, but as soon as they'd pressed on towards the bridge they'd come under heavy fire. Many a replacement found himself being dragged to cover by a veteran and the lot of them were forced to watch as the Germans blew up the bridge.
"Sorry, Monty," Posey mumbled under her breath as she watched, appalled. Montgomery's plan was not off to the flying start he'd surely hoped for.
Just like that, they were onto the next part of the mission: liberating Eindhoven. With little time to waste now that step one had already failed, the engineers had to work quickly and efficiently to build a new bridge that would allow them to get to the occupied city. In the meantime, Easy and the other two companies in Second Battalion, Dog and Fox, set up camp in Son.
"See, this is what fuckin' happens when we're under British command," Bill commented the moment he had slumped down onto the floor beside Posey, likely just to get a rise out of her. The pair of them had been arguing about it almost nonstop since finding out that Market Garden was Montgomery's idea.
"Yes, because D-Day started out so much better than this," she retorted drily. "The Germans knew we were coming and tried to shoot us out of the air so we ended up scattered all across Normandy. Took me a full day to find the company, not before having a knife shoved against my throat, and I was one of the lucky ones. Yes, Eisenhower's plan was so much better than this."
"At least we didn't fuckin' fall at the first hurdle," Bill fired back.
"I'd say being shot out of the sky counts as falling at the first hurdle, wouldn't you?"
"It really took you a full day to find Easy?" Heffron asked, cutting their bickering short.
Posey nodded, the makings of a smile crawling onto her face. "Yep." She tugged down the collar of her ODs and tilted her chin up to show him the scar on her neck. "Got held at knife point by some Resistance fighters too. See?"
"Damn, Duckie, your Adam's apple must be tiny. I can't see it at all!" Malarkey butted in.
Posey dropped her chin and tugged her ODs back up immediately. She felt her face heat up immediately in the face of so stupid a mistake.
"Everything about Wells is tiny," commented Johnny, sitting down on her other side.
Flames were still alight in Posey's cheeks but she felt them calm significantly in light of the quick save. After all this time spent pretending to a boy, how could she still be making such stupid, trivial mistakes?
The conversation carried on without her as she tried to settle her mind. Every time she slipped up she was liable to panic and panicking right now was not the best idea. She turned her eyes to the sky ahead, careful not to expose her neck too much, and watched as the clouds lazily tiptoed after one another. The sky was grey but the sunshine felt warm, limited though it was. The brightness remained even when she closed her eyes.
Posey jolted awake to the sound of Winters' voice. "Easy Company! On your feet, we're moving out!"
"I fell asleep," she said, before she could help it.
"Sure did," Johnny replied. "Now get off me."
"Sorry." She was grinning as she sat upright from where she'd been leaning against his shoulder, smug in the knowledge that she was probably the only person alive who could've gotten away with that.
Posey stumbled to her feet and got her bearings again, recalling where she was and why she was there. In one movement she bent down and picked up her rifle and helmet, slinging the rifle over her shoulder and putting the helmet on her head. She grimaced as she followed after the others towards the trucks that would take them across the makeshift bridge and into Eindhoven, praying they'd meet less resistance upon arriving at the city than they had upon arriving at the bridge.
The journey to Eindhoven was short, only about fifteen minutes or so, and Posey took the time to watch the world go by around her. Holland was pretty, for all the area they were currently moving out of was a little bit war torn. Once again she was reminded of how much darker things were on this side of the Channel. Things had been bad in England before she left, what with the German blockade and the consequential rationing and then the Blitz, where bombs had fallen from the sky like rain and destroyed everything she once associated with home. On the mainland, however, in the countries the Nazis had occupied, she knew things were much worse. Rationing was worse in the occupied regions even than it was in England and she couldn't begin to imagine what life was like under the iron-fisted Nazi rule. It was only really upon meeting those Resistance fighters in Normandy that she'd been fully able to appreciate it - how ordinary people had been driven to do extraordinary things out of desperation - and now she saw it everywhere she looked.
"After we've liberated Eindhoven," Posey said aloud, speaking to the occupants of the truck at large, "we should give the people some food. The rationing's really bad in the occupied areas."
"We ain't got that much to spare," Perco objected.
"Whatever we've got to spare is more than they have to start with." Posey shrugged. "You do what you want, but I'm gonna help."
"Yeah, lets just focus on liberatin' 'em first, huh, Wells?" Bill asked, already puffing on a cigarette.
"Of course," Posey agreed, and let the subject die there. She knew she was fighting a losing battle with them but hopefully when they saw what it was actually like they'd understand.
Posey sat quietly for the rest of the journey, thinking mostly about her brother. He'd been the first one to tell her about the price on the heads of downed airmen over occupied territory and how things were so desperate that the citizens were turning them in. She wondered about John's crew, who he'd not seen since bailing out of his plane, and considered the probability that any of them were still alive. She liked to hope that they were, and perhaps if she hoped hard enough they'd find their way home.
The trucks pulled up a little ways outside of the city and they were all quickly ushered into a ditch at the edge of a field. Posey was crouched beside Bill, ready to be one of the first to push into the city - such were the perils of being a sharpshooter. She knew Shifty would be one of the first in, too, wherever he was over with First. She wondered how he must have felt on D-Day, carrying the weight of all that responsibility, but pushed the thought aside as a squadron of Allied fighter planes flew overhead, likely on their way to take down as many German bombers as possible before any more bridges could be bombed.
Posey smiled as she watched them, filled with hope at the idea that some of the Luftwaffe planes were about to be shot out of the sky. Those ugly planes had taken so much from her it was about time they got some comeuppance.
Once upon a time, she thought, her brother would've been flying one of those Allied planes.
Bill gave the appropriate gesture and Posey, along with the rest of Second Platoon, rose to her feet. The plan hadn't been to cross the field they were crouched beside but, as she began to, she found the rest of the company all around her. There must have been some kind of hold up on their previous route.
She walked through the field looking every which way, wary of a surprise attack and unsettled by the quiet. When the grass changed to mud as they approached the outskirts of the city, each of the NCOs at the front of the company gestured for everyone to get down. There was some sort of movement in one of the windows.
Posey ran the remaining distance to the fence separating the farmland from the city without having to be told, but Bill gestured at her anyway. She clicked off her safety and aimed at the offending window, staring through her scope and focusing on the figure moving in the centre of her target image.
Her finger moved off of the trigger the moment she caught sight of the orange flag the figure was holding just as it was flung out of the window and tied around the support beam. Orange, the Dutch national colour. The Nazis must have gone, for no flags were allowed to fly beside theirs in occupied territory.
Bill came to crouch beside her as she lowered her gun. "Civilian," she said, shooting a glance over at him. "Orange is the Dutch national colour. The Nazis must have already gone."
Within minutes of their arrival, the city of Eindhoven was alight with festivity. Dutch citizens filled the streets, singing, dancing, and waving flags. Wherever they could, they dragged American soldiers into their revelry, and many of the men were pleased by all of the attention they were getting. As a result, in no time at all Posey found herself alone in the crowd.
"Oh, fuck," she mumbled, searching the faces around her for one she recognised.
Posey pushed her way through the masses, dodging elbows and flags and kisses alike. By the time she caught sight of a familiar face, she knew she must have been covered in lipstick stains.
"Heffron!" she called out, as much an expression of relief as a bid to get his attention.
Heffron turned at the sound of his name and smiled when he saw her. "Duckie! Ain't this great?!"
"Yeah, wonderful," she replied sarcastically. "Where's Johnny?"
Heffron shrugged, receiving a quick kiss on the cheek from a Dutch woman passing by and grinning as he answered, "No idea. I lost everyone in the crowd."
Posey huffed. "This could be a trap," she told him, leaning closer and lowering her voice so as not to concern the civilians surrounding them. "Be on the lookout for snipers set up in windows."
Heffron's jollity failed at the idea; so new to combat as he was, it was easy to understand why he'd take the celebration at face value, but Posey was sceptical that the Germans would leave such a big city undefended and allow the Allies to waltz in undisturbed.
"Can't you look through your scope?" Heffron asked, leading the way through the crowd and using his height to help clear space for her behind him.
Posey scoffed a laugh, ducking under one particularly enthusiastic man's arm and having to grab onto Heffron's ODs to steady herself. "I can't just get my gun out in the middle of a crowd and start aiming!"
Heffron laughed, nodding his agreement. "Right. Sure. 'Course not."
"Be on the lookout for Bill or Johnny," she said, looking around for either of their squad leaders herself. "Or any of the officers. They'll be wanting us to move out as soon as possible."
"Right," Heffron agreed.
The pair of them braved the crowd together, battling their way through and ending up having to link elbows to stay together. Posey's cheeks had flushed involuntarily at first, so much so that she'd had to look away, and she wondered whether Heffron might have done the same if he'd known that she was actually a girl. Such behaviour was usually reserved for couples, after all, though desperate times called for desperate measures.
Posey scanned the crowd frantically as they navigated it and had to hold onto Heffron for dear life at one point when one particularly insistent girl had decided she wanted to give Posey a kiss. Heffron, of course, had laughed uproariously at the event, but it turned out to be that girl who led them to their friends.
"Hey! Ain't that Perconte?!" Heffron shouted, gesturing over the girl's shoulder and looking down at Posey expectantly.
Posey got up on her tiptoes, using Heffron's shoulder for leverage, and grinned when she caught sight of the man in question. "It is!" she cried. Turning back to the Dutch girl, she said, "Sorry, if you'll excuse us," and proceeded to lead the way over to Perconte where he was standing around with a group of Second Platoon.
"Perco!" she called, only letting go of Heffron once the pair of them were safely on the pavement with the group.
"Hey! Duckie!" shouted Hoobler, turning and catching sight of her.
"Hoob!"
"Where the fuck did you go?!" Bill asked, dodging a kiss from a Dutch woman as he looked at Posey expectantly.
"Where did I go?! Where did you go?!"
Before the conversation could progress much further, the woman Chuck was with brought forward a man with a camera, and though he was speaking fast and enthusiastic Dutch, it was easy to understand what he wanted.
"Yeah, lets get a picture!" Ramirez said, the first to put two and two together.
Before Posey could react she was tucked between Johnny and Perco, in the midst of a group picture in progress. There was nothing she could do to fight it, so she smiled at the camera instead, hoping to God a sniper wouldn't get her whilst she was posing for a photograph of all things.
"Hey, there's Gene!" she exclaimed as soon as the picture had been taken and the group had dispersed. Her eyes set firmly on the lone medic in the crowd, Posey approached him and grinned when he turned to look at her. "You've been having fun," she commented, referring to the lipstick stains covering his face.
"So have you," he retorted, gesturing to her face. Posey rubbed furiously at her cheeks and Roe laughed before a woman being dragged past them had their attention drawn elsewhere.
"What the hell?" Posey mumbled, and followed the men dragging the woman without a second thought. She knew Roe had followed after her, for when she startled and stopped in place he ended up walking into her back. "What's going on?!"
The woman had been thrown into the middle of a circle, joining two other women who were already there, crouched on the floor and sobbing. Each of the women had had their dresses torn off, leaving them in their slips, and their hair was being shorn off so viciously there was blood running down their faces and necks.
"Gene, what's happening?" Posey asked, her eyes frantic as she turned to him, searching his face for an explanation he didn't have.
Roe's mouth was hanging agape, his eyes wide and seemingly unable to look away from what was happening before them. Utterly helpless, just like she was. "I don't -" He shook his head dumbly. "I don't know."
When one of the women had a swastika painted onto her forehead in her own blood, Posey thought she understood. "Collaborators," she murmured.
"They slept with the Germans," a Dutch man informed her, stood to her left. He'd been one of the people chanting and clapping as the women were manhandled and had their heads forcibly shaved, and it seemed he wasn't yet satiated; the moment Posey had nodded her understanding, he turned back to watch another woman be thrown onto the concrete and resumed his chanting once more.
"This is sickening," Posey said, not caring if any of the Dutch chanters around her overheard. Actually, she hoped they did hear. She couldn't understand how they, of all people, couldn't understand. "These women were clearly desperate! How can you live in occupied territory and not understand desperation? Doing things that you don't want to do because you have no other choice?"
Roe shook his head, seeming at a loss for words, before a hand on his shoulder had him turning around. "Doc, we're moving out," Lip said. He glanced up and offered a small smile once he saw Posey, "You too, Duckie," before disappearing back into the crowd.
Turning her back on these women would feel like betrayal.
How could Posey live with herself if she didn't at least try to help?
As a group of men hauled yet another woman into the middle of the circle, Posey took ahold of the woman's left arm to stop her fall and stepped in front of her. "Stop it!" she demanded of the men holding her. She had to fight to keep angry tears from spilling from her eyes. "This is - is - it's barbaric!"
Biting Dutch words were thrown at her in all directions. Men grabbed onto her arms just like they had with the woman she was protecting, trying to get her out of the way.
Posey struggled against their harsh grip. "Get off! Get off me!"
"They are guilty!" shouted one of the men attempting to drag her out of the way. "They slept -"
Posey wrenched her arm out of his grip with such force he stumbled backwards. "With the Germans," she growled, still fighting against the hold of the others. "I know. That doesn't make them fucking guilty."
The shouting flared up all around her again. Posey didn't let go of the Dutch woman. She feared she may have been hurting her but the woman kept close nonetheless, her hands clutching at the back of Posey's ODs. Posey could hear her sobs in her ear.
New arms seized her, sending her into a frenzy. "Stop it!" she screamed, her voice raw. "I'm not leaving!"
"This is not your business -"
"Like hell it isn't!" She pushed back at her oppressors before a fresh set of arms grasped her around the waist. "Get off me!" she cried, struggling with all her might against the grip. "Get -"
"It's me! It's me!"
Posey turned to Bill and all but collapsed into his arms. Her hands fisted the front of his ODs, her breath coming hard and fast. "Bill!" she said, half relieved and half worried about how he'd react. "You have to help! We can't just -" The look on his face made her words falter. He looked... genuinely sad. She'd been expecting opposition from him, less understanding and more accusation. Where she'd been about to brace herself for a fierce reprimand, she found in him a regretful apology.
"Ain't nothin' we can do," he said softly, his face uncharacteristically earnest. "We gotta go."
"I can't leave them," Posey confessed, her defeat audible when her words cracked. She knew just as well as he did that she'd done all she could, and all she could do was show her support for these women, let them know that they weren't standing alone.
One look from Bill was all the response she needed.
Posey turned back a moment and found the woman she'd been protecting weeping on the floor, her hair in a growing puddle about her knees and her dress ripped entirely off. A heartbroken expression and a mouthed apology were all she could offer this woman now.
Posey allowed herself to be led away feeling like she'd failed all of these women. She felt more powerless, more helpless, than she'd felt in a long, long time.
Tears pricked at her eyes as she followed Bill back through the crowd to where the company, along with Dog and Fox, was getting ready to move out. Roe was just ahead of them - she guessed he'd been the one to go and get Bill. The thought might have made her smile under any other circumstances.
As she stood with both of them on the outskirts of the gathering group of men, she was unable to keep the image of what she'd just seen out of her head. She couldn't begin to comprehend such blatant cruelty. On the first day of liberation after living under Nazi rule, why was the priority punishing women who had done what they'd had to to survive?
She felt sickened, her stomach rolling with nausea at the injustice of it all. Her heart had little time to ache, however, as she was ushered onto another troop truck and led out of the city.