After bouncing around Holland and getting into almost daily skirmishes with the Germans, Easy Company was finally pulled off the line in the night of November 24 – 25.
Ella, like most of the guys, couldn't remember much about the journey to Mourmelon-le-Grand. They were all completely exhausted after two gruelling months on the front line.
Mourmelon itself had been turned into a proper staging area. There were huge rows of canvas tents, just waiting to house the tired soldiers. Ella hopped down from the truck and stretched, joints popping and vertebrae cracking.
"Man, I'm gonna sleep for a week", Luz proclaimed with a huge yawn.
Lipton commented: "There's showers."
The young girl perked up. "Showers?", she repeated, looking as if Christmas had come early.
The first sergeant chuckled. "That's right. And fresh uniforms, too."
A huge grin spread on her face and she tugged at Toye's jacket. "You hear that? Showers and new ODs!", she gushed. The small medic was almost bouncing with excitement.
"I heard, Shorty", the man replied tiredly, stifling a yawn.
"Well, what are we waiting for? Come on!" Ella snatched his wrist and pulled him along to the supply tent, leaving a bunch of snickering guys in their wake. It wasn't every day that they got to see tough Joe Toye being dragged around by his sleeve.
"Like a friggin' puppy, I keep telling ya", Johnny said to Bull, shaking his head fondly. The tall man simply smiled, cigar stump between his teeth.
As always, some of the men stood guard while Ella was in the shower. This time, it was Christenson, Grant, Hoobler and Gene.
"Thanks, guys", the girl said. She tossed them a chocolate bar each, slipping inside before they could say anything.
They simply sat down by the door, content to wait in silence. They were too tired to talk anyways after their own shower. Hoobler devoured his chocolate bar, chewing with a dramatic sigh and closing his eyes in bliss.
***
The brunette felt like a different person after shutting off the water. The layer of filth she had grown accustomed to was gone, her hair was soft and clean. Even the handful of freckles that were sprinkled across her nose and cheeks was visible again. The skin around the healing scar on her temple was smooth and no longer bruised.
Wringing out her dripping hair, she slipped into her fresh clothes, picked up her stuff and went outside.
She had already opened her mouth to apologize for keeping them waiting, but then she stopped short at the adorable sight. Hoobler was out like a light, head tipped back, mouth hanging open. Gene had also fallen asleep and Christenson looked about five seconds away from following suit.
Grant spotted her standing there and gave her an amused smile.
Ella whispered: "What I wouldn't give for a camera."
The two sergeants chuckled.
With a bit of gentle cajoling, the small medic managed to coax Gene into a semi-awake state. Grant and Christenson opted to let Hoob sleep and carry him to his billet.
"Debout, Gene", Ella crooned.
He mumbled something under his breath, to which the girl replied: "Je sais. C'est pas loins, allons-y."
Guiding her three-quarters asleep friend towards their tent, she helped him take off his satchel, jacket and boots. Then, she watched with fond amusement as the Cajun collapsed in a boneless heap on the bunk, already fast asleep when she tugged the blanket over him.
Shuffling to her own bunk, she toed off her boots. Her satchel was placed next to them. Slumping down, she marvelled the feeling of real sheets, a luxury she had last had in Aldbourne, months ago. Smiling to herself, the girl crawled into bed and closed her eyes, not even bothering to pull up the covers.
***
Ella woke up the next day and was momentarily disoriented, confused by the soft, clean pillow under her head. Was she still dreaming? There weren't any pillows in foxholes.
Pinching herself, the brunette blinked a few times. No, the pillow was still there, as was the roof over her head and the bunks to both her sides. Her tired brain finally decided to remind her that they had been pulled off the line yesterday.
Mourmelon. Tönt wia Murmeltier.
She frowned. Obviously, one night of actual deep, uninterrupted sleep wasn't enough to stop the odd, random thoughts that popped into her mind when she was exhausted.
Rubbing her eyes, the brunette sat up and stayed like that for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of a warm bed just a bit longer. It was quiet, except for the men's steady breathing and occasional snores.
"Mornin'", a sleep-filled voice croaked on her left.
"Morning", she greeted a bleary-eyed Skip, whose hair was sticking up in about 14 different directions.
He yawned widely and scratched at a spot on his neck.
Chuckling, Ella got up and dressed, washed her face in the sink and walked over to the mess hall. Just as she was leaving, the lumps under some of the blankets began to stir.
Grabbing her tray, she sat down at an empty table and slowly began to eat. Turns out that it wasn't morning anymore, but more like 1315. Not that she cared. The young medic decided that it was well within her rights to sleep late after weeks and weeks of being on 24-hour duty and stand-by.
Slowly, a few men from Easy Company came trickling in, all looking less than 100 percent awake.
Babe flopped down onto a seat across from her and hid a jaw-cracking yawn behind a hand. Shifty was cradling his cup of coffee like it was the holy grail. Ella was poking at her food, pushing it around more than actually eating. Malarkey, blinking blearily, slid in next to her and started stealing bits from her plate. She let him.
After a good ten minutes, coffee and food began to take effect and idle conversation was struck up, a lightness settling over the table that could never be there in the field.
***
The mail caught up with them the same day. Sitting on her bunk, the girl read her letters from home, one after the other. Isabel talked about work at the hospital, about the acquaintances she made, about her life in general. The last letter, though, was a bit different.
My charina Ella
It has now been almost two months since I have last heard from you. You know I worry about you and I do so every day, but lately, it has been more difficult. I keep waiting for Pat to come to my door, holding the latest casualty list in her hand. Every morning when I see the Western Union boy make his rounds, I can't help but wonder if there is a telegram addressed to me in his bag.
James tells me that I'm being paranoid, that you are probably too busy to write, or that the mail just doesn't reach you. Fa il bain, mia figlia, write to me as soon as this letter reaches you. I know I'm working myself up into a frenzy, but this silence reminds me all too much of Nico.
I have been thinking about him quite a lot lately, for obvious reasons, and I have even told Pat and Mary of him. It wasn't easy and it hurt, but I have found that it is a different sort of hurt now. You spoke about that in one of your early letters when you mentioned that you talked to your friends about your brother. I can now see what you meant.
How are you, charina? I cannot shake the feeling that something happened to you. Call it intuition, or a mother's instinct, but I just know. Remember when Nico got into a fight at school? That same odd sensation struck me one afternoon this September. Maybe I read too much into this and I was simply a bit unwell that day.
James is convinced I must have imagined it. I guess he just doesn't understand. He keeps assuring me that you are alright and while I appreciate what he is trying to do, they are just empty words. He has never met you, charina, he doesn't know how much trouble loves to follow you. Though, he doesn't know either just how much luck you have, mia figlia.
Oh Ella, I just miss you so much. It has been more than two years now. I see many girls your age around here and I keep thinking that you would find their behaviour either annoying, embarrassing or hilarious. Probably all three. Have you even worn your female dress uniform yet? If you ever do, please send me a picture. It has been ages since I have seen you wear either a skirt or a dress. I'm sure your boys are curious to see you wear one, too.
It's getting late and I have to work tomorrow, so I must finish now. Remember that I love you, mia figlia.
Lots of love
Your Mama
Isabel
A frown settled on Ella's features as she followed her mother's simple handwriting. Especially the second week of October was difficult for the Sawyer family, but she'd never have thought that it would be this bad.
Last year you weren't in the middle of a war yet, a tiny voice in her head pointed out.
Her sombre mien darkened even more as guilt made its presence known, digging sharp claws into her heart. No wonder Isabel was scared for her. With a heavy sigh, the small medic picked up the letter again, reading it once more.
The way her mother talked about James in this letter was bothering her a little. Sure, Isabel didn't explicitly say anything, but then again, she didn't have to. Between the lines, the statement was clear enough. Sighing a second time, the small medic dug through her belongings for some paper.
***
When Joe Toye entered the billet a good hour later, he found his young friend sitting cross-legged on her bunk, a small stack of letters before her, a nearly blank piece of paper in her lap. She was chewing on the butt end of her pencil and staring into space, brows furrowed in a troubled expression.
"Everything alright, Shorty?"
Ella startled, her head whipping around to him. "Madonna!", she exclaimed, "Spinnsh? Giving me a near heart attack!"
He chuckled, a r. "Sorry, kiddo. Didn't mean to. But you really were away with the fairies there."
She hummed in acceptance, frown returning to her delicate features.
Toye sat down next to her. "C'mon, what is it? Your Mama okay?"
Sighing, the girl handed him her mother's letter, making a 'go on'-gesture with her hand before returning to composing her reply.
It was quiet for a while, only the occasional scratch of Ella's pencil filling the silence.
Toye set down the letter and ran a hand through his hair. "That James character is doing a piss-poor job supporting your Mama", he stated bluntly.
The brunette snorted. "Yeah." Frustrated, she pushed a few stray locks out of her face and looked at him. "It's just annoying, you know? October is a bit of a bad time for us and with me in the middle of a war, it's makes everything worse for Mama. And now with James being so... well, not understanding, I can't help but feel guilty."
Toye frowned. "Why would you feel guilty?"
Her gaze dropped. "Cause I'm not there to help Mama and I'm causing her all this worry."
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and jostled her affectionately. "Hey, c'mon. Your Mama's tough, she'll make it. And when you told her you wanted to enlist, didn't she give you her blessing?"
Ella nodded, slowly realising what Joe was getting at. "Yeah", she allowed.
A smile crossed his features. "See?"
"Thanks, Joe." He received a peck on the cheek and a bright smile. "You wanna help me write to Mama?"
Readjusting his position to get comfortable, Toye fished a pack of candy from one of his various pockets and put the bag between them. "Currahee, Shorty."
She grinned. "Currahee, Toye."
***
With their back pay coming through, most of the soldiers rushed to use their 48-hour passes. They went to Reims or Paris, some even travelled to London.
Ella sent a big part of her money home to her mother since she didn't really have any use for it. She wasn't a good gambler and usually payed people in smokes and chocolate bars, which was actually much more effective. Besides, she had no desire to go sight-seeing. She used her pass to rest and catch up on her sleep.
Training resumed soon enough. For the veterans, it was a piece of cake, especially for the Toccoa men. But the new batch of replacements badly needed to get their skills up to scratch. It was a cause for frustration among platoon and squad leaders, who had to spend hours and hours teaching the new kids things they should know by heart after basic.
It didn't help that their new CO, Lt Norman Dike, was a stickler for rules and regulations. He was one of those types that only went into the field long enough to fulfil their requirement to move up the career ladder.
Easy Company had learnt not to trust the man right away. He disappeared to god knows where for long stretches of time, sometimes in the middle of a battle. He was a poor leader and the NCOs took it upon themselves to do his job – taking care of the men, working out the best tactics, leading the men in combat.
Lieutenant Welsh, the company's XO, became their de facto leader and he was great. Of course, he was no Captain Winters, but he was a good tactician and cared for the men.
Because of his love for textbook training, Dike had them doing close-order drills on the parade ground each day. They marched up and down the tarmac in parade formation, about-facing ad nauseam. Other than that, they were busy training for combat, doing more useful things like weapons training, field exercises and night problems.
***
The medics also had a lot to do. They helped at the field hospital, polished up their own knowledge and trained the new medics. They went on all the manoeuvres with the platoons, day or night, they watched some of the combat drills and discussed the best positions and strategies to get to the wounded in the shortest amount of time.
Whenever they had some of the guys playing casualties, one of the experienced medics would sit the exercise out and act as an observer. That way, they didn't just evaluate the replacement medics' performance under pressure, but they could also pick up on shortcomings in the men's medical training and address them later on the refresher first aid classes.
Ella was once again in charge of those classes. She and her fellow medics had noticed a few faults and she was eager to eradicate them before going back into the field.
Predictably, a replacement asked: "But why do we need to know this stuff? We're not medics."
"No, but we can't be everywhere at once and time is often your biggest enemy when it comes to wounds", she replied evenly, "If you don't know how to treat your buddy's wound, he might catch an infection or experience severe blood loss. Both of these things can kill a man."
She released him from her gaze and went back to speaking to the room at large: "When you're in the middle of a firefight, with adrenaline running high, you're bound to make mistakes. It's only natural and happens to everyone. But if you don't know what you're doing, you might actually kill your buddy; because you pulled the bandage too tight or not tight enough, because you pulled out shrapnel that you should have left alone, because you administered too much morphine."
She didn't miss the meaningful look Captain Winters and Lieutenant Welsh exchanged. They hadn't forgotten about their own blunder that could have cost Lieutenant Heyliger his life.
"Therefore, it is extremely important that you know these basics. They might just safe your or your friends' lives one day", she finished before dismissing the men for the day.
***
Even with the replacements, Easy was still at only 65 percent fighting strength. They had taken heavy casualties and many of the wounded wouldn't return from the hospital.
One who did return however, was the one and only Bill Guarnere. He had gotten hit by a sniper while joyriding a stolen motorcycle. After a few weeks at the hospital, he'd had enough and gone AWOL to re-join his company.
"Hiya lil' lady."
Ella swirled around and with an excited shout jumped into Bill's arms. "When did you get back?", she asked, a beaming grin lighting up her face.
"Today. Went AWOL from the hospital."
She laughed. "What, got tired of the nurses?"
"Nah, missed my favourite combat medic", he responded, ruffling her hair. He slung an arm around her shoulders. "So, what did I miss?"
The young girl filled him in.
Another returnee was Buck Compton. After getting shot in the behind in Nuenen, the light-haired lieutenant was back from the hospital. He had changed. He had been a boisterous, loud fellow who got along with nearly everyone.
Now, he was quieter, almost subdued. But he still hugged Ella enthusiastically when she made her way over through the crowded pub.
"Good to see you, kid", he said, smiling and clapping her on the shoulder.
"You too, Buck. C'mon, let me buy you a drink."
While she didn't drink any alcohol, the brunette had no trouble paying for her friends. They did the same for her as well, so they were even.
Sitting down at one of the less busy tables, Compton took a sip from his beer and asked: "Say, Ella, what did you do before enlisting?"
"I worked at the local clinic and helped out on the farms", she answered. "My family is poor and I left school during my junior year", she added as an explanation.
He nodded. "You ever considered going to college? You're plenty smart, you'd be accepted easy enough."
The girl shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. Mostly because it's expensive and they don't take people without high school diplomas, right? But... I guess it would be nice. You went to college, didn't you?"
Buck's eyes came to life and he started telling her about UCLA.
Ella listened, fascinated by the picture he painted with his words. "The great thing is, you can study basically anything. Whatever you like."
Thoughtfully, she chewed on her bottom lip. "Hmm, you have to be really good at something to get in though. I mean...I did okay in school, but there's nothing I'm great at."
He blinked in surprise. "Are you kidding?", he sputtered, "Of course you are! Heck, you're the best medic in the whole regiment, maybe even the entire ETO. You speak what? 3 languages? You could become a professional translator, they are in high demand and earn good money."
She smiled at his praise, feeling her cheeks heat up. Did he really think that of her? Promising him to give it some thought, their conversation turned to other topics.
***
Some of the guys came over and commandeered the empty chairs. Luz plopped down next to the girl and stole her soda from her. Gulping down the half-full glass, he looked at her and grinned.
Ella had an eyebrow raised, humour dancing in her green eyes. "Thirsty?", she asked.
He nodded emphatically. "Very. Don't worry, I'll get you another one", he placated.
The girl chuckled and waved it off. "Nah, it's alright. Help yourself."
"No, I couldn't possibly. As apology for my unmannered behaviour, allow me to ask the lady for a dance." He jumped up from his seat to give an elaborate bow.
She laughed and gracefully stood up, letting him lead her to the dance floor, where some soldiers were already dancing with WAC nurses, Red Cross women and local girls.
"Ya know, I wonder how good you can dance in proper women's shoes if this is how you dance in jump boots", George commented as his young friend twirled around him.
She grinned. "Trust me, it's easier in boots." She spun towards him.
He caught her and they pulled off a Hollywood-worthy dip, Ella's now slightly too long locks nearly brushing against the floor. "Oh yeah?", he questioned as they switched sides. "So, you won't go to a dance in the women's uniform?"
The girl flashed him a cheeky, lopsided smile. "You just wanna see me in a skirt, don't you?", she teased.
Luz laughed and wiggled his eyebrows. "Damn, you got me."
Rolling her eyes, she laughed as well. "One day, George", she promised. Dang, Mama was right. Again.
Satisfied, Luz changed the subject and they kept dancing for another song before they went to the bar to get a drink.
"Where'd ya learn to dance like that?", Toye asked when the two returned to the table.
Ella brushed a few stray hairs out of her eyes. "My Mama taught me. She loves dancing. She always says 'Tanza ish guat für d Seel', dancing is good for the soul."
Buck nodded approvingly. "Your mother is a smart woman."
The young girl beamed brightly at him.
***
Translations:
Debout: Rise and shine; up and at 'em
Je sais: I know
C'est pas loins: It's not far
Allons-y: Let's go (I'm sure the Doctor Who fans among you recognise this one :D )
Tönt wia Murmeltier: Sounds like 'Murmeltier' (Murmeltier is the German word for marmot or groundhog)
charina: darling, dear
Fa il bain: Please
mia figlia: my daughter
Spinnsh?: are you out of your mind?, are you crazy?