The choirs' voices echoed softly throughout the small church residing in Rachamps. Their voices filled the room and calmed the soldiers in the room. The men were exhausted, but thankful to be spending a night indoors and away from the harsh weather they persisted through the last month.
Lia canvassed the men. There were so little compared to the day she and Piper met them. Sixty-three out of one-hundred fourty-five men were leaving Belgium.
Piper, just like her, had chosen to stay on enemy grounds instead of being evacuated. She had ridden along for Noville and Rachamps with the medics, healing up the best she could. The young blonde soldier would not leave the war without her older companion.
The room became hard to sit in, remembering which men they lost. She felt as though they were still sitting in the pews beside her, but as she went to turn, those men were nowhere in sight. Lia stood, climbing out of the seats and making her way for the door.
The cold welcomed her. As long as she had been outside with snow and frosty air creeping up her uniform, something about the cold always kept her grounded. She always believed the little bit of pain from that cold bite reminded her of who she was.
"Azrael." George Luz greeted her from behind.
Lia let out a small laugh at the old nickname, one she hadn't heard in a very long time.
"Hey, I mean, I think it's pretty fitting." He leaned up against one of the pillars, taking a drag from his smoke. "Think we'll be getting out of here soon?"
The lieutenant looked back down to the ground, sliding her boot over the gravel. "I sure as hell hope so."
Luz nodded absentmindedly. "I think the whole war is almost over. We'll be on a boat ride all the way home soon."
Lia liked his optimism after everything he'd gone through; everything the company had gone through. The word 'home' struck her. She never thought about where she would go once the war was said and done. Never thought she'd even make it through to see the end.
Luz noticed her silence, and chose to leave the lieutenant alone. He turned to head back into the church but stopped short. "Listen, Lieutenant." He fought for the right words to say. "I want you to know that every single man in there has outrageous amounts of respect for you, for everything you've done for us."
Lia turned to face the soldier, and he smiled.
"So what I'm trying to say, from all of us, is thank you."
The lieutenant didn't know that was something she needed to hear. Something that would keep her fighting to be okay until her very last breath. She was doing it for the men around her.
------
The CP building was set up quickly. Lia helped settle Lipton on the couch who had come down with a rough illness that was beating him up. There were two other soldiers in the room. One she recognized, but couldn't pin him for his name. The other was just a kid who looked like he was barely out of high school.
Winters and Nixon entered the room, gaining everyones attention. "Regiment wants a patrol for prisoners. This one comes straight from Colonel Sink, so it's not my idea."
Lia wanted to protest the idea. The men needed a long awaited break form gunfire and battles. There was no way of knowing if a patrol would go smoothly, especially when acquiring prisoners. She glanced around the room, stopping to look at the young kid. He stood straight up, hands at his side.
She wanted to laugh at the freshness of this soldier, but knew he was only doing what he was taught. Lia could tell he had never seen a lick of combat his entire life.
"Since the river's the main line of resistance, we're going to have to cross it to get to them." Winters spoke, walking further into the room.
"What do we need to do?" Speirs asked from beside her.
"There's a three-story building on the enemy side, up the embankment. We know it's occupied. You can have fifteen men. Think very hard about who you want to lead the patrol. You'll need a lead scout, a translator. I've got the entire battalion on covering fire." Winters continued.
"Speirs, I want this one to be as foolproof and as safe as possible."
Nixon chimed in, "Yeah, don't take any chances on this one. We're too far along for that."
As Speirs and Winters discussed who would be on the patrol, Lia went to help finish getting Lipton settled in. She overheard Nixon talking to the kid in the room, finding out he was a Lieutenant out of West Point.
Speirs had joined her next to Lipton and the three continued over the possible options for the patrol. Deciding who was difficult. No one wanted to throw these men back into action.
"Captain, request permission to go on the patrol." Lieutenant Jones spoke up, still standing as stiff as a board.
The trio all glanced at each other, confused. His first day here and the kid already wanted to go on the patrol. Every fresh soldier just wanted a chance to see what war was all about. Lia fought the urge to go into detail about the horrors that exist each day in the midst of war. The brunette lieutenant shook her head at Speirs; it was too dangerous to put someone who had never seen combat in on a risky mission.
"No. You don't have any experience." Speirs answered simply. "Report to 2nd platoon."
Speirs stood up. "Tell, Heffron, Ramirez, and McClung they're going."
Lipton cut in before the Lieutenant could leave the room. "Sir, this is Private Webster."
Lia realized where she recognized him. She furrowed her eyebrows in thought. Holland was four months ago. Some of the men had gotten injured after that and still returned to the men sooner than Webster had.
"Sir, I'm Private Webster from 1st platoon. I just got back from the hospital and Lieutenant Foley told me to go to 2nd, but Sergeant Malarkey said-"
His rambling was quickly cut short by Speirs. "Fine, 2nd. Take," He looked at the kid, not knowing his name until Lipton filled him in. "Lieutenant, OP Two."
Lia watched the pair leave, knowing the men weren't going to take this well. Both Webster and Jones were not going to be treated the way they think they would.
------
The lieutenant joined Speirs in one of the buildings overlooking the river. A flare flew high above the German grounds, illuminating the broken buildings below it. The Americans on the river bank below them began readying themselves on the boats.
"Hey." He whispered, feeling her presence beside him.
Lia let out a small breath. "Hey. Everything alright?"
Speirs nodded, staring as some of the men fell out of the boat into the water. "They shouldn't be doing this. After everything these men just went through, this should be the last of their problems."
He only spoke the truth. They were exhausted after months of battle with little breaks in between. Easy company was close, and the loss of their brothers in arms hit them harder than most.
"It'll be quick, in and out. Maybe we'll be pulled off the line after." Lia tried to sound hopeful.
2nd platoon had successfully made it across the river and were advancing on the tower. Lia couldn't see where they were until the blasts lit up the tower windows. She held her breath, waiting for the retreat.
Minutes went by before she finally heard a whistle blowing from across the way and water splashing as the men got back into the boats. Machine gun fire from both sides lit up the landscape across the river.
Lia had finally noticed the one lone soldier running through the bullets and mortar strikes, blowing the whistle as he went. Even from the distance, she could see it was Lieutenant Jones. He blew the whistle early, knowing he was far behind the rest of the guys. Brave.
Speirs excused himself to go check on the men, leaving Lia behind to watch from the windows of the building. She saw the two prisoners be brought ashore, along with an injured American solider.
Lia couldn't bring herself to see who it was or what had happened to him. Her mind was too cluttered with blood and death to see any more.
------
Lia walked with Speirs, each taking a drag from their smoke.
"It was Jackson, right?" Lia asked, looking off across the river. She had found out the injured soldier last night had succumbed to his wounds shortly after they got back. His own grenade had taken the young soldier out. His own damn grenade.
Speirs nodded his head. "Yeah." He huffed a laugh filled with sarcasm. "And they called it a successful mission."
Lia scoffed. Anytime an American soldier died in the field immediately removed the idea that it was a success, no matter what they got out of it. At least in Lia's eyes, that's how it was.
The pair had walked on down the street, each enjoying each others company. Even the silence that passed through them was comforting. Liebgott's voice echoed throughout her head and evidently cut through any ounce of that peace Lia had acquired.
His voice carried through the open door of OP Two. "I don't know. The last thing I heard from the prisoner was that she killed a lot of people by the time she turned seventeen."