As Fury approached the military base, Natalia couldn't decide if she missed or loathed the place. Sure, she was given a relatively warm meal to eat and her stress levels could lower a bit, but the living conditions were absolutely horrendous. Disease spread like wildfire, nothing but mud and shit covered the ground and the sky was masked in a constant haze from smoke and pollution. She tried her damndest to never complain, though. Growing up, she was always told to be thankful, someone always has it worse. The miniature hospital seemed to be working over-time when she got a good look at the tent, but maybe it only seemed that way because she had been gone for nearly a month, or so she estimated.
Natalia pushed her hatch open and pulled herself up, allowing her nostrils to breathe in what she pretended was fresh air. Her arms rested on the tank, supporting the upper half of her body poking out. No one said a word. They were exhausted. Physically, and mentally, everyone was is agony. Natalia was sure someone could hear her stomach growl from a mile away, though she paid no attention to herself. Instead, her eyes focused on the countless bodies that lay on the ground. They were stacked into piles, like how Natalia and Grady would pile up their dirty laundry in the corner of their bedrooms when they were kids. Their mother always hated that. For a moment, Natalia prayed. The girl wasn't particularly religious, she lost whatever faith she had after she joined the war, though she prayed, nonetheless. She prayed for those men's families, and she prayed for her crewmates to never end up in that scenario.
The tank eventually came to a stop, allowing everyone to climb out of their hatches and stretch their legs. Don was first, and waiting on the ground were the other sergeants. Natalia locked eyes with Sergeant Binkowski, and for a brief moment, he flashed her a smile. A sign that he was thankful to see her alive and well. The two always had an unexplainable bond, ever since they met at tank school. Excluding her own crew, Natalia was the closest with Binkowski. He watched over her like a hawk, like he was responsible for her. The two weren't ashamed to admit they loved each other platonically.
"Good to see you, Nat. Thought you were dead." Binkowski tried to joke, though he could tell something was off with her. Binkowski was the only person in the world who ever called her the shortened version of her name.
"The Devil takes care of his own." Natalia forced a laugh. It was true, she thought. The only reason Red was dead and not her was because of who, or what, was watching over them.
Natalia climbed to the top of the tank to help her brother and the other two grab Red. Ever so gently, they handed the body to the medics. Boyd never let go. The preacher instructed the medics where to lay the body, how softly to handle him, and for the first time since his death, Natalia let a few tears slip.
"Take good care of him, or I'll take good care of you. He's the best bow gunner in the entire Ninth Army. He's a good man." Natalia threatened the paramedics as the tears ran down her face and dripped off her chin.
"Where's the rest of Third Platoon?" Lieutenant Parker had appeared from nowhere. The question was directed at Don. The girl quickly wiped her tears away, proceeding to smear dirt and grime over her cheeks. She jumped off of Fury and stood beside Don, her hands shoved into her pockets.
"We're it." Don looked at Natalia on his side before looking back at the young man. Above them, Grady and Gordo sat on the tank, awaiting for their next instruction. Natalia knew the conversation between the sergeant and the lieutenant wouldn't carry on with her in that close of proximity. Not everyone took kindly to the female gunner. Tension between the soldier and lieutenant were always high. Instead, she climbed her way up the tank to find a relatively comfortable seat to take with her crew.
"Hey, Boyd? They're gonna send him home, right?" Grady asked, careful to not let his emotions show too heavily.
"I don't know that, Grady." Bible answered truthfully, never taking his eyes off the direction that Red's body went. Natalia looked too. She hoped he'd be sent home, despite the condition he was in. She knew his wife would rather bury a deformed body than no body at all.
Grady and Gordo jumped off the tank upon Boyd beckoning them over. The preacher took notice of their distress over Red's death, so he offered them a comforting hug. They graciously obliged, giving them the opportunity to express their grief for a short moment. Natalia squeezed her way into the embrace, her head resting on Gordo's shoulder. Grady audibly sobbed, feeling comfortable enough to do so in front of the three. Gordo mumbled words of sorrow in Spanish, including a prayer for Red's soul. Natalia stood quiet, her arms wrapped around Trini's and Grady's bodies.
"Red's got us all a little sad right now." Don faced his crew, catching sight of their strong hold on one another. When they released, Natalia felt the urge to scream and yell at him. A 'little' was an understatement; "but we got a job to do. Grady, restock ammo. Gordo, water and gas. Boyd, get some chow and do what you can about the mechanical issues. Dove? Go stock up your bag with rations."
The rules rarely changed whenever they returned to base. Everyone had their part to play, and all their parts were equally important. Grady worked with the artillery, so of course he was given the job of restocking ammo. Gordo was the driver, so refilling the tank with gas seemed logical. Boyd was one of the three mechanics in the crew and Natalia had a special way of looting rations that the tankers wouldn't normally receive.
"We can't do shit about mechanical issues." Bible declared as they all watched Don start to walk away.
"Where are you going?" Natalia asked as she took a few steps forward, hesitating on following him. Don didn't respond, he just kept walking. She trailed far behind the sergeant until she followed him behind the gas tanks.
Don suddenly crouched down, almost tripping over his own feet in the process. His breathing grew heavy. He knew the girl had followed him, and a small part of him was thankful. He was miserable after Red's death, and maybe she could help him like she helps the others. She seemed to posses that special gift. Natalia placed a hand on Don's shoulder before she kneeled down behind him, slowly wrapping her arms around him in a hug. No matter how angry she was at him, not even fifteen minutes ago, he had a special place in her heart. Everyone knew that, including him. Don finally grew to accept the fact she was special to him too. He wiped the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes before holding her hands in his, giving them a small squeeze of gratitude. Behind them, troops stomped their feet in the mud in a march. To Don, the stomping was growing louder by the millisecond. The man gripped Natalia's hands one last time, grounding himself before he looked behind him, catching her eye. Despite being covered in mud, sweat and other indescribable things, she looked beautiful to him.
Natalia released Don from her grasp, a small smile on her face. She didn't say a word as she got up from the ground and attempted to wipe her gloved hands clean on her stained pant legs. Don turned back around and took a drag from his cigarette, giving Natalia the cue to walk back to the tank.
•
A few hours had gone by, giving the Fury crew enough time to stock up on everything they needed. Natalia found herself a bowl of relatively clean water from the kitchen and she allowed herself to enjoy the sensation of cleanliness on her face. Every inch of her body deserved a thorough wash, but the luxury was simply not available to her. Instead, she opted for a clean face and soaked hair, desperate to get some of the grease and dirt out of her brunette locks. The girl squeezed her hair until the excess water dripped onto the ground, then she proceeded to get herself a cup of hot coffee.
Natalia started making her way back to Fury, nodding at her fellow soldiers in the process. Before she could make it to the tank, she spotted Don talking to a younger man. He couldn't be much older than her. She may even be older than him. Though not by much, she's only twenty-two, after all. Don seemed to be giving the boy a hard time.
"What's going on, Serg?" Natalia asked as she stopped beside Wardaddy, bringing the cup up to her lips to hopefully warm up her insides.
"I was told to report to First Sergeant Collier, I'm the new assistant driver." the young boy looked at the girl then back at their sergeant, nearly tripping over his own feet when he stood face to face with Don.
"No, you are not." Don looked the boy up and down, sizing him up before walking away towards the tank. The young soldier followed close behind, almost like a lost little puppy.
"Yes, yes I am." he pleaded.
"God damn it. Who told you this?" Don stopped walking, Natalia at his side.
"Master Sergeant with the clipboard," he pointed in the direction in which he came from off the truck. Don clearly didn't believe him, hell, neither did Natalia. There was no way they replaced Red that fast. With that mentality, there was no way the crew was going to take kindly to the new recruit.
"What's your name?" Natalia asked, her voice calm.
"Norman." he replied. Don looked at the young soldier for a moment, almost judging his character simply by this first interaction. First impressions were either very important in the military or they simply meant nothing at all. Your first impression could be your only impression, as far as you know.
"How long you been in the Army?" Don asked. Natalia listened attentively.
"Eight weeks." Norman almost sounded like he was embarrassed or ashamed. He felt intimidated. Clearly the two standing in front of him had far more experience than he did.
"That's home." Don pointed to Fury; "do as you're told. Don't get too close to anyone," a rule everyone in the military broke at least once. The Fury crew were the living example.
Norman stood in the mud, watching as Don walked away from the interaction. Natalia stuck around, hoping to ease his mind a little with her friendly demeanor. Or, she hoped she came off as friendly.
"I'm Natalia, but please, call me Dove. That was Don, they call him Wardaddy." Norman couldn't look the girl in the eye; "follow me. I'll introduce you to everyone you need to know."
With that, Natalia started making her way towards the tank. Norman followed suit. She swallowed the last bit of liquid that was in the cup before setting it down close to her backpack. As her and the new recruit got closer, they could heard Boyd singing Old Rugged Cross, a song Natalia practically knew off by heart now since she's been friends with the preacher. Grady and Gordo were on top of the tank, taking apart the firearms. Natalia gestured towards the crew member on the ground, Bible.
"Hi. Hi, I'm Norman."
Bible looked up from his work, a cigarette hanging off his lip. He stood up, and soon, Grady and Gordo were at his right side. Natalia took to his left side. Like a guard dog, Gordo started walking around the young soldier, taking in every detail of him. He was small, skinny. Grady and Gordo would hardly call him a man. Natalia could tell Norman was practically trembling in fear.
"Which..." he stopped to look at Gordo; "which way is the front?" Norman asked, genuinely confused. It was then Natalia realized, he truly had no idea what he was doing. Compared to everyone's three years of experience, Norman was in for a wild ride.
"Which way is the front?" Bible quoted Norman, almost in mockery. Beside Natalia, Gordo started searching through the young man's belongings; "hm. All around us, kid 'cause this is Germany. We're surrounded by Krauts. Ain't that right, Grady?" Bible's tone was practically dripping with attitude. It was rare that he treated someone he just met with such disrespect, but Norman had caught him on a bad day.
"That's right." Grady agreed. Norman turned to look at Gordo. He held a green book he found in the boy's bag. When Norman lunged to grab it out of Gordo's hand, he simply pushed Norman aside. The boy didn't get the hint, and when he lunged forward again, he received a harsher shove in the chest.
"Can I please have my book back?" Norman asked.
"Where are the cigarettes?" Gordo replied.
"I don't smoke."
"You're a bastard." Gordo spat, finally allowing Norman to grab his book back.
"You go to tank school?" Natalia chimed in, hoping to break some of the tension.
"Tank school? No. I've never even seen the inside of a tank." Norman told them. The two Travis siblings shared a glance, coming to terms with just how shitty of a hand they've been dealt. Suddenly, they missed Red even more than they did before; "I'm a clerk typist. Trained to type sixty words a minute. Was heading to Fifth Corps HQ, they pulled me off the truck. They sent me here. It's gotta be a mistake."
"Mistake? Army don't make mistakes. It wouldn't do." Grady shook his head, turning his attention to the tool in his hand.
"You from Missouri?" Bible asked. He was from Missouri. Norman shook his head.
"Are you from Chicago?" Gordo guessed his home city. Still wrong.
"You're from Arkansas, ain't you?" Natalia guessed as well, hoping to be the winner in this little unspoken game. Arkansas was home to the Travis siblings.
"No. I'm from Pittsburgh." Norman told them, though he was so rudely interrupted by Grady.
"Hey, hush up, man. Nobody gives a fuck where you from."
Everyone in the Fury crew chuckled.
"Are you a praying man?" Bible asked. Natalia knew the question was coming.
"I go to church." Norman nodded, not knowing just how serious Boyd was about religion.
"Which denomination are you? Episcopalian?" Bible paused; "yeah, you are. You're a Mainliner, ain't you?" Boyd continued. Natalia, Grady and Gordo listened, not understanding half the words the preacher just said. Norman nodded, amazed at how Bible had guessed right on his first try; "Are you saved?" Bible asked. Natalia studied the young soldiers facial expressions carefully.
"I'm baptized." Norman nodded. Under his breath, Grady chuckled.
"That ain't what I asked you." Bible said sternly. In unison, Natalia spoke;
"That ain't what he asked you."
"Dove? What'd I ask him?" Boyd turned to the girl for a brief moment.
"See, you gotta listen." Grady said with a suspicious grin.
"Say it again." Gordo chimed in.
"Are you saved?" Bible asked again. When Norman didn't answer, the group got quiet. Bible's expression turned cold, and his voice was serious; "wait until you see it."
"See what?" Norman questioned, instantly regretting the question. He truly did not want to know.
"What a man can do to another man."
Natalia turned to look at Bible. She watched the side of his face closely. It almost looked like he was going to cry. If the man's reply didn't strike the fear of God into Norman, Natalia wasn't sure what would. Norman couldn't wrack his brain for a response. He simply stared at the preacher, lost for words. Trini broke the uncomfortable silence, giving Natalia a chance to place her hand on Boyd's shoulder, allowing him to relax into her touch.
"Pastor Boyd Swan was doing Preacher classes before he got drafted." Trini told Norman. The man held a flask in his hand, filled with whiskey.
"Divinity College." Boyd corrected his friend.
"And we praise Jesus for this war, see." Grady spoke now. Natalia stood quiet, her body leaning against the tank; "praise Jesus! Praise Jesus!" Grady grew louded each time he yelled the words; "thank you, Jesus for this war!" the older Travis sibling threw his arms in the air while Gordo stood and watched with a grin on his face; "thank you for all the Nazis we get to fucking kill!"
"These two are wicked men." Boyd whispered to Norman as Grady kept screaming at the sky, his hand making contact with the young soldier's head to pull him close; "Natalia, she's good. She's a good girl." Norman looked over the preacher's shoulder at the girl. Grady was quiet now; "I'll be the muser. You know what you need, Norman?"
"What's that?" Norman was afraid to ask.
"You better grab ahold of Jesus. He's the one thing that won't rattle you loose. You get me?"
"Yeah, sure." Norman gave a slight nod.
"Alright." Bible pulled away. He hoped a word or two would resonate with the boy.
"Before you find Jesus, why don't you come take a look at your seat? That's where you're gonna be," Natalia broke into the conversation. Deep down, every inch of her hated the fact this kid was taking over Red's spot. The man's belongings were still in the tank. His medals, the photos of his family. No one had the heart to remove them when they took the body out; "Get a bucket of hot water from the kitchen." Natalia barked the order; "You might wanna get that shit clean."