NORMANDY, FRANCE
June, 1944
She felt like she was crumbling into the Earth below her feet.
'Did you fly, Jo? In the sky like a bird?'
'Yes, everyone can, Henri.'
Her back pressed up against the wall behind her as she shook with a flood of sullen countenance. Anger- Jo felt.
'Why can't I fly?'
Her tear stained cheeks were still raw.
'You will, I know you will.'
Henri always looked to her for guidance. Sure, he was older, but Josephine Lambert had something that nobody else did. Fortitude.
She was the last to know, the first to be oblivious. Of course she was. Just when life had started to pave a path for her, it veered off down the far side of a cliff. Then, she felt like she was free falling. No, she wasn't flying. Much to Henri's dismay, she wasn't. Once again, Jo found herself with her eyes shut tightly, trying to recollect her image of her brother again. All she could think of was the hottest day of their youth. Summer at the pool was the remedy. All of the neighborhood kids dared not to attempt the diving board - in all its mighty.
No kid, but one.
Josephine Lambert was a mere eleven years old by the time she reached the edge of the board. Her eyes cast to the scene below her. The kids watched in awe as the young, brave girl took a breath and jumped cannon-ball-style into the looming water beneath her. Almost immediately after she got out of the water, Henri berated her with questions. Most of the other kids looked at her as if she were an alien. Alas, where could that courage have been kept all that time? In a girl? Surely not.
Josephine flew. Not like a bird, not like the planes in the sky, or the paratroopers she began to love. But, she flew.
Now, she couldn't. Her life was halted to a stop and she tumbled down into pain.
Henri was gone.
-
It's been a week since Carentan and chaos. Death, however, lingered like a fresh wound.
Josephine kept to herself most of the time, blank stares, eating meals alone, not conversing like usual. Yet, how could life continue as if it hadn't just paused hers?
She mastered the art of avoiding others while in her solitude. Her ability to piece herself together just enough was concerning - Birdie had missed her friend, whom she watched with careful eyes.
Bernadette Hurst felt guilt. Honestly, that's all she could feel. She originally held the letter. As a friend, she knew it wasn't the best option to do. However, Birdie didn't want Josephine to explode.
Yet that is exactly what happened when she found out that her brother had been killed a month ago on the Solomon Islands.
Now, Josephine Lambert sat in between two paratroopers, George Luz and Joe Toye, with the entire Easy company in the same room. Drinks were passed around just as much as jokes and laughter. Even in the crowd, the medic felt lonely. It was a lurking feeling that she couldn't shake off for weeks.
"What d'ya think about that, Jo?" A voice chuckled, removing the cloud of silence from her senses.
She blinked her eyes and looked at Joe Toye with a blank expression.
" 'Bout what?" Jo sat up straighter, noticing her absence in the conversation and tried to begin to keep up.
The men at the table exchanged worried glances and Bill Guarnere took a large sip of his drink before patting her on the shoulder with and encouraging grin.
"It's nuthin' Jo, just some yapping from Toye." He teased and earned a kick in the shin from the other guy. Jo let a small smile bubble to the surface but it quickly fell when she saw Lipton stand in front of Easy Company with a solemn look.
"I got some news for everyone." He began. "The fitness training scheduled at 2200 has been canceled."
Whistles and cheering erupted from the crowd of paratroopers.
"-And all weekend passes have been hereby revoked." Lipton added after it quieted down. His shoulders tensed before he continued. "We're heading back to France. We won't be in England again."
Josephine's breath caught in her throat at the news. Sure, it had been nearly a month since Carentan and D-Day, but it felt like yesterday to her. Her thoughts turned to her brother, Henri, who's death caught up to him earlier than most. She could already feel her's as well, it was inevitable. And there they were, going to France again.
Bill Guarnere looked at the girl warily and felt something tightening in his chest. Last week, word had broken out about the casualty list in the Pacific. Just as he had felt, Josephine did too. Their brothers were gone- all at the hands of the accursed war. Guarnere hoped that she could rebuild herself, especially before they got back to France. He wouldn't have admitted it back then, but Easy Company needed her.
-
"I'm looking for Josephine Lambert, the medic?" A man ran around the camp, a small letter clutched in his hand.
A few of the men directed him to the aid station where she worked. The man went in and tapped Jo's shoulder to get her attention.
"Uh Miss?" He said as she turned around to face him. "There's a letter for you."
Dread set a course in her body when she saw the paper.
"Thank you." Jo meekly said then took the envelope from his hand. Frail- were her movements. After all of this time, she had gained strength. It surmounted physically but now her emotions knocked her back down. What could this letter possibly be about now?
The envelope ripped open with ease, much to Jo's distaste, she was anything but eager.
The first thing the girl noticed was how crinkled the letter was. It was as if the author of it had rethought it over and over. Much to her surprise, she felt small welts in the paper. Were those... tear drops?
'Ma plus chère fille,' It began.
Then, Jo knew that it was from her mother.
'I hope you have found time to make yourself presentable as a woman in the corps.'
Jo's lips quirked up slightly as she heard her mothers scolding about being lady-like
in her head.
'But regardless of your new path, I just want you to know that I love you.'
It felt like a planet crashed upon her. Jo's breath caught in her own lungs when she processed her mother's words.
I love you.
It had been ages since she felt any warmth from her mother. But those words took all of her apprehension away. What remained, however, was an insurmountable feeling of guilt. Josephine Lambert had felt it slowly wear her down over the past few years, but it had already chipped so much of her self-assurance away by the time she made her way to Europe. The tipping point was undoubtedly the loss of-
No, she couldn't even bear to think it.
There was so much to pine about, so much to live without.
Yet, there she stood, her mother's words of love right within her grasp.
'I'm sorry for not saying it sooner. For not saying it enough. I can't even think about what effect Henri had on you. It's hard enough to see his room empty back at home. But your Father and I are together. You are alive. Maybe, just for the future, it will all be alright.
Do your duty.
It's all we can hold on to.'
The weight of the past month had felt lessened on Jo's shoulders after reading that.
Could hope really be there for her after all?
-
The sun was setting, casting a haze of orange over the town dwellings. Crickets chirped and the warmth of summer buzzed.
The paratroopers had been preparing all day to leave for France again. Today was the day. The day to which they would be at the leisure of Death again, playing in the palm of his hand. A quiet fear settled amongst the men, each one of them stricken with a whirlwind of emotions. However, there was only one who strayed.
Lieutenant Ronald Speirs briskly walked on the pavement of the street, a crate of shiny things in clutch and close to him as he made his way to the post office.
The door was ajar, luckily, so he wouldn't have to remove his grip from the box to open it. There was warm chatter circulating in the room, he noticed as he stepped in.
"That'll be four pounds to send, Miss."
"Oh, I- I don't have-" Jo began to speak, clearly stressed.
"I do." Ronald placed his crate on the table in front of him and placed four pounds on the desk in front of the postal worker.
Jo looked at him with deep gratitude, yet she couldn't mask her embarrassment for her lack of ability to pay.
"Thank you, sir." She smiled kindly.
Ronald looked at her, seeing her warm smile brighten up the rest of her face. How long had it been since she'd done that? Too long.
She turned her gaze after a moment of silence. Her cheeks visibly flushed.
Ron couldn't help but think if he had anything to do with that... maybe it was wishful thinking.
"I- I think that I spent a fortune on sending letters across the Atlantic." Jo chuckled meekly. "I guess it's best to get everything sent out before we go back."
"You've written to your family?" The lieutenant asked, remembering one of their early encounters.
"Yes, sir." Jo nodded. "It took some... time, but I eventually got around to it."
Ron nodded, understanding. He and, most likely, the entirety of the HQ & battalion knew what had happened.
"Did it help?" He finally asked after a moment.
Jo looked back at him, this time, with eye contact so direct that it threatened to make him weak.
"It did, I can't imagine what I'd still be doing here without it." She said. Then paused, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You were right."
Ron kept his gaze on hers as he processed her words. On one hand, he was glad she felt better since writing back to her family. It was eating away at her. On the other, he realized that what he advised her to do was the reason she decided to stay here. Here with the men. In war. Just as they were on the dawn of more brutality. His advice.
It stung something in his heart- Ron wasn't sure what or why. Yet, it felt all too much.
This was going to be the death of him.
-