Charlie had no way of knowing how close they were to the inevitable invasion of Europe. All she had to go by were the increase in intensity of her training and the increase in administrative work she was constantly being given to do at the hospital. By the looks of both of these things, the invasion was imminent.
As such, at the end of her working day, Charlie was only a little surprised when Lieutenant Maddox - who had been a lot nicer to her ever since she'd punched Don Malarkey not only in the nose but the groin as well - pressed two cardboard document wallets full of papers into her hands.
"These are to be distributed amongst the officers and NCOs of the company," Maddox told her, patting the brown folder on top once Charlie held them both in her hands. "The top one is for the officers, bottom is for the enlisted. Each of the men has a designated blood donor in case we need to do a transfusion in combat with low supplies, and they need to know who it is."
Charlie nodded. "So do I give these to First Lieutenant Meehan or -"
"You give the top folder to Meehan, you give the bottom to First Sergeant Evans. Tell them we have copies in case they need extras but they should try to make sure they don't go missing."
Charlie nodded. "Okay. What do they do with the information?"
"Every man needs to memorise his blood donor before they head out into combat."
"And if someone's donor dies before they need the transfusion?"
Maddox sighed. "Look, it's not my idea. But all of them will have their blood type on their dog tags, so if someone's donor dies we'll just have to manually search for a match."
Charlie frowned but assured Maddox she understood. She supposed the buddy system had only been implemented to speed up the process of finding a matching donor, but it didn't sit well with her that they could potentially have to waste valuable time getting boys to read their dog tags.
After a moment of hesitation, Charlie called out to Maddox just as she was about to head out of the door. "Ma'am, do we have enough spare copies that I could take one?"
Maddox wore a quizzical expression when she glanced back at Charlie over her shoulder.
Charlie shrugged, suddenly feeling sheepish. Maybe she was worrying too much. Still, she explained, "I just think it would be useful if I was familiar with the blood types beforehand, ma'am."
Maddox studied her for a moment and, eventually, nodded. "Alright," she said, still nodding, and crossed the room. She opened the top left drawer of the desk in the corner and rifled through it for a moment, then withdrew a big file which she opened on the desktop. A few moments later, she pulled out a thin pile of papers and held it out to Charlie, who hurried over to take it.
"Thank you, ma'am," she said, smiling. Relieved.
Maddox offered her a simple nod and closed the file back up again, storing it safely back in its drawer.
Charlie watched Lieutenant Maddox leave for a few moments and then looked down at the three sheets of paper resting on top of the two document wallets. Placing the documents on the desk, she scanned the papers and then folded them neatly, stowing them away in one of her inside pockets. She'd need them later on.
As Charlie made her way to the bus stop to join the other nurses - each of whom had left the ward a few minutes before her after she'd insisted on staying behind to clean up a stack of bandages she'd dropped - she chewed on her bottom lip. She didn't have the faintest of clues as to how she'd track down Easy Company's commanding officer. First Sergeant Evans would be much easier to find - he bunked with the other enlisted in the farmhouse on the other side of the village, so even if she couldn't find him immediately, she'd surely run into someone who could. But First Lieutenant Meehan? Charlie wasn't sure she'd ever seen him when she wasn't being trained by him, whether it be in hand to hand combat or physical drills.
"Whatcha got there, Charlie?" Mabs asked around a cigarette. She'd been smoking more and more these days, which Charlie could only assume hinted at her own mounting stress about their imminent deployment. Still, they'd never spoken about it, and Charlie didn't want to start now.
"Lists of blood buddies," Charlie said, then grinned at her own nickname for the system. "Each of the officers and enlisted has been assigned a designated blood donor in the event they need a transfusion once they get into combat and we don't have access to any large supply of blood. Hopefully, it should hurry along the process of finding a blood match, so long as no one dies." Some of them had had to double up, of course, because the numbers for each blood type weren't always even. Charlie wasn't quite sure that that was such a good idea, but that wasn't for her to decide.
Autumn scoffed a laugh at this. "Yeah, but what are the chances of that, hm?" She was smirking as she looked down the street, searching for the bus. "Who ever heard of soldiers dying in combat?"
Charlie sighed with a shake of her head. "I know. But the army has a blood transfusion service specifically designed to supply blood to front line hospitals, so we should be fine." She wasn't sure she agreed, but that was a worry for a later hour.
"Where are you taking them, anyway?" Violet asked. She'd set the ball of one of her feet on a spot on the pavement and was spinning around it, using her other foot to pedal herself around.
Charlie smiled as she watched her, more out of fondness than amusement. Violet did such things often and thus none of them paid her much notice.
"The officers get one folder, which I have to deliver to Lieutenant Meehan. The enlisted get the other, which goes to First Sergeant Evans. Any idea where I'll find Meehan?"
Mabs stuck out her hand, palm facing upwards in a beckon to receive. "I can take the officers' one. I know where Lieutenant Meehan is billeted."
Three pairs of eyebrows furrowed as they looked back at her, dumbfounded. After a moment wherein the penny dropped, Autumn snickered, Violet gasped, and Charlie sputtered.
"How?" Charlie demanded, shaking her head with her jaw agape.
Mabs laughed and flicked some golden hair off her shoulder, turning away from them to blink into the sunlight streaming through the trees across the street. "I have my sources."
"I don't want to know," Charlie said as she handed the topmost folder over.
Violet made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. "I do!"
Mabs didn't confess anything on the bus ride home and, after a while of badgering her to no avail, Violet stopped trying. Instead, they discussed which boys they each wanted to be paired up with in their next hand to hand combat session with the paratroopers, which was scheduled for tomorrow, which was as good a subject as any for avoiding worrying about the war. It seemed to loom above each of their heads these days.
"I wouldn't mind givin' Bill Guarnere a go," Mabs was saying casually, examining the chipping red nail polish on the fingers of her left hand.
Autumn laughed where she had her head resting against the glass window of the bus beside her, sitting on Mabel's left. "He might not be the tallest of them, but have you seen the size of the man's arms? He'll knock you straight unconscious the second you try to lay a finger on him, Mabs."
Mabs downright cackled at this. "As long as he carries me to the med bay after, I won't mind one bit."
"You're shameless," Charlie accused, giggling at her best friend's absurdity.
Mabs grinned. "I'm a go-getter," she corrected. "And why should I apologise for that?"
"You shouldn't," said Charlie. She leaned across the aisle and poked Mabs affectionately in the shoulder. "It's one of my favourite things about you."
Mabs shot her a wink and a smirk. "And what are the others?"
"Charlie, who would be your ideal sparring partner?" Violet asked, changing the subject back to the conversation from before. She had her back leaning against the window, her entire body facing towards the other nurses, where she was sitting on Charlie's right.
From the other side of Mabs, Autumn laughed loudly, which earned them a stern look from an elderly man a few rows in front of them. Charlie apologised in place of all of them and the man turned back around, but Autumn didn't seem to care, for her laughter persisted.
"Boo," Autumn began, addressing Violet, "I think we all already know the answer to that one."
Charlie scowled. "Don't say it," she warned, pointing an accusing finger at the smug redhead.
Autumn just grinned wildly back at her. "Little Charlie still has the hots for the head company medic -"
"Autumn!" Charlie exclaimed, burying her face in her hands.
"Well, is she lyin'?" Mabs asked, chuckling. "You blush so hard you damn near collapse every time you're within a mile of the fella."
Charlie groaned into her hands. "Stop."
"It's true," Violet added. "I just wanted to hear you say it."
"I've still only spoken to him once!" Charlie insisted. Reluctantly, she raised her head from her hands and looked pleadingly between the faces of the others. "He probably doesn't even remember me."
"I'll bet he does," Mabs told her. "Next time you see him, you're talkin' to him," she decided.
"What? No!"
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not!"
Mabs shrugged, looking past Autumn out the window. "See if you can help it."
Charlie wasn't entirely sure what that meant but she decided to let it slide, for the bus was slowing down as it approached their stop in Aldbourne.
When each of them were standing on the cobblestones by the bus stop, Charlie patted the one remaining folder in her hands with a half-hearted smile. "Duty calls," she said, pulling a face. "I'll see you back at the house."
"I'll meet you back here after I've delivered this to Meehan," Mabs told Charlie, holding up her own folder.
Charlie nodded and agreed, and the four of them went their separate ways, Autumn and Violet together as they began the short trek back to the house.
Making her way across the village to the paratroopers' barracks, Charlie set a leisurely pace for herself. The evening was warm, the sun still bright, and a light breeze made the lingering heat bearable. All around her birds sang to each other and leaves brushed against each other in the trees, the sound of distant voices underscoring the ambience of a comfortable, quiet life. It panged her heart to think she'd be leaving all of this behind soon, that arguing with the girls about who would have to go and pick up the groceries would one day soon seem like a distant memory they could only dream of getting back.
But for right now, she was happy. She was content. She missed home sorely, always felt an ache in her chest when she saw a man or woman around her parents' age and mistook them for a split second for her parents, but she was glad she'd gotten to live a little section of her life in Aldbourne, somewhere she would never have even heard of otherwise, let alone ever visited.
She hoped a lot of the places she visited during her time in the service would be like this, places she made happy memories and felt lucky she'd ever gotten to call home, if only for a little while. Somehow, though, she wasn't sure that any of them would ever be able to match up to this.
As tweed and muted neutrals turned into khaki fatigue uniforms, Charlie slowed her pace even more. She'd only ever seen First Sergeant Evans from a distance and would need to keep her eyes peeled if she hoped to find him now.
After fifteen minutes of searching Charlie didn't, in fact, find the company first sergeant, but she did find the NCOs he'd be passing the information onto, to then be distributed more easily amongst the lower ranking enlisted.
Charlie wasn't sure if this was all of the NCOs, as she wasn't fully acquainted with all of them, but there was a good amount of them in the group huddled together and talking by a building on the edge of town.
Taking her time with approaching them, Charlie kept to the edges of buildings so none of them would spot her just yet, all the while trying to discreetly wipe her sweaty palms on the trousers of her ODs. Whilst she knew a few of the boys well enough - Floyd was there, as were Chuck and Bill - she'd never gotten entirely comfortable with talking to a whole group of boys at once, much less approaching them, much less a group half-filled with boys she didn't know. Her cheeks flamed as she got close to them but she knew there was nothing she could do about that, so she drew in a steadying breath and opened her mouth to speak.
"Hey, Freckles," Floyd greeted her before she had the chance. He turned towards her as she stopped by them, removing his cigarette and puffing out smoke as he asked, "what are you doing here?"
"I'm looking for First Sergeant Evans," she ventured, cutting frequent shy glances towards the rest of the group, conscious of them listening in. "I have to give him this so he can give it to you."
In hindsight, after telling them that, she should have anticipated what they'd say next.
"No need," Bill insisted, leaning across Bull Randleman and Johnny Martin to grab at the folder.
Charlie held it out of his reach. "I have to give it to First Sergeant -"
"Evans is a jackass," Bill cut her off with a scoff. "Just give it to us instead."
"What is it, anyway?" Floyd asked. He plucked the folder out of her hand where she'd been trying to keep it away from Bill and squinted to read the pencilled writing on the front.
Charlie glared at him, though he didn't catch it, and sighed before folding her arms across her chest. "You've all been paired up based on blood type, so if you need a blood transfusion in combat we know who to go to without having to refer to a list or get everyone to check their dog tags," she explained. "So everyone has to find and memorise their blood buddy in case of a medical emergency."
Floyd snorted at the term and opened the folder.
Charlie plucked it right back out of his hands before he got the chance to look inside.
"Has anyone seen First Sergeant Evans?" she asked the rest of the group sweetly. She resisted the urge to fidget as they looked at her, and all of them shrugged.
"He's probably up at Company HQ," Chuck put in helpfully. "I can take you there, if you want."
"Really?"
"Come on, sweetheart, just let us see now. You'll save yourself a whole lotta trouble," Bill appealed to her, reaching out a hand for the folder.
Charlie shifted the folder in her hands, considering the request.
"Evans'll just give it straight to us anyway," groused Johnny. "He won't know what to do with it."
Bill cackled. "That schmuck'd probably lose it before he ever got to give it to us."
"Now, come on, boys," drawled Bull around the cigar sticking out of his mouth. "Play nice in front of the lady. Evans'd at least remember to look up his own name before losing it."
As the rest of them chuckled, Charlie stamped her foot and huffed. "Fine! You can look! But I still have to take it to your first sergeant."
"Yeah, yeah," Johnny dismissed her, swiping the folder right out of her hands. "He'll get it. Don't lose sleep over it."
Charlie frowned and turned to Floyd, who only grinned back at her.
"So," he said while the others crowded around the folder. He puffed on his cigarette before withdrawing it, "who's my buddy?"
Charlie scoffed, watching idly as the other NCOs searched for their names and those of their squads. "You're more presumptuous than I thought if you think I've looked up your name already."
Floyd pressed a dramatic hand to his heart. "Freckles, you really wound me, you know that?"
"I'm sure you'll live, Floyd."
When the folder eventually came back to her, after everyone including Floyd had taken a look, Charlie knew better than to trust them. She pulled out the papers and scowled when she realised one was missing. "Who's the platoon sergeant for Third Squad, Third Platoon?"
Floyd huffed out a laugh and handed over the rogue piece of paper. Charlie rolled her eyes as she placed it back in the folder with the others.
"Nothing gets past you, huh, Freckles?"
Charlie rolled her eyes. "You might have gotten away with it if you weren't so utterly predictable." With that she gave the rest of the boys a shy smile and then followed Chuck to wherever Company HQ was, hoping to finally find First Sergeant Evans.