The mortars outside peppered the streets of Hagenau, going off one by one, usually missing any real target altogether and serving more as a reminder that somewhere close by, there were still Germans lurking about. Margot watched through the window she was standing in front of as concrete exploded into the air and large chunks scattered throughout the street, causing a few men to scurry and duck for cover.
At that point, the sound and sight of a mortar was about as natural to the woman as waking up to the sound of birds chirping would be for any normal person. No longer did the high-pitched squeal give her a rush of anxiety or a spike in her blood pressure. When the familiar sound reached her ears, she would throw her hands over her head and calmly watch the sky until the chaos was over.
"Hey, guys," a voice greeted the room as two pairs of footsteps could be heard on the worn-down wooden flooring.
Turning away from the window, Margot gave Webster a slight nod before turning her attention to the man behind him. She tried to place him for a few seconds, but unlike the stunt she had pulled with Webster, this time she was sure she had never met the guy. He looked young, really young, but otherwise unphased by the condition of the men around him as if he had been in combat for years, just like the rest of Easy Company.
As Webster tossed his duffle bag up onto the bunk above Liebgott, Margot wandered over to the table in the middle of the room where Malarkey was pouring himself a coffee. Taking note of his Co-Platoon Sergeant, the redheaded mortarman carefully handed the steaming mug to her with a small smile.
"Thank you." Margot took the drink with both hands, relishing the warmth that spread to her cold, calloused palms before taking a sip and enjoying the feeling it brought her; the feeling of knowing she was truly alive.
Malarkey then poured himself a cup of the hot caffeine and clinked his mug against Margot's before taking his own first sip. His reaction was much of the same—eyes closed and a flash of relief over his pale face.
"Sergeants, this is Lieutenant Jones. Just assigned to 2nd Platoon," Webster introduced the young-faced man, thoroughly interrupting the wonderful moment the platoon leaders were having with their first cups of coffee in days.
"Malarkey," Malarkey introduced himself before gesturing to Margot. He knew by the look on her face that she wasn't in the mood for making any new friends at the moment, even if the possible candidate was a Lieutenant. "This is Kessler. We're the Platoon Sergeants."
In a swift motion, Lieutenant Jones switched his gear to his left arm before extending his right hand out toward Malarkey. "Congratulations on the battlefield commission."
Margot heard Liebgott snicker from where he was standing with the rest of the men and immediately knew that the Jewish cab driver had started spreading some sort of weird rumour to mess with the new guys. Looking over her shoulder, she gave the prankster a sly smirk of approval. "Wow, you've been holding out on me, haven't you, Malark?" She gently smacked Malarkey's arm with the back of her hand.
Malarkey stared down at the Lieutenant's hand, confusion and exhaustion painted on his face. "The what?" He accepted the gesture awkwardly.
Liebgott let out another snort of amusement, this time catching Webster's attention. "They're making you an officer, no?" Jones inquired.
"Me, no." Malarkey cleared up the confusion as Webster caught onto the joke and rolled his eyes. "You must be thinking of 1st Sergeant Lipton."
Jones looked to Webster, whom he had obviously gotten the wrong information from, before swinging his rifle down from his shoulder and setting it on the table along with his bag. "So, you're without a platoon leader?"
"No, not anymore Lieutenant." Malarkey reminded the man of why he was there in the first place; to take over as leader of the platoon. Margot was somewhat grateful for this because as much as she enjoyed running things for a little while, she missed being able to sneak off and spend some time alone without worrying if someone was looking for her.
Jones nodded slowly as the realization hit him. "Right."
The comparison between Jones and Malarkey was shocking, and at first glance, you wouldn't be able to tell that the two men were fighting in the same platoon, in the same war. Jones had a baby face, no stubble at all, wide eyes, a clean uniform, and freshly showered hair. Malarkey, on the other hand, was quite clearly a grown man. His ginger stubble had grown out to a small beard, his eyes were dark and full of exhaustion—both mental and physical—his uniform was a dark brown from all the mud that had been caked on, and his dirty, unkempt, sweaty hair was tucked underneath a toque that just barely covered the tips of his ears.
Jones' eyes trailed past Malarkey and Margot and settled on the small group of troopers that were gathered close to each other, enjoying their own cups of coffee and sharing a conversation. "So, do you wanna introduce me to the men?"
Margot chuckled a little. She sure as hell didn't feel like playing matchmaker with the boys and she was sure Malarkey didn't either.
Letting out a loud exhale, Malarkey turned to the platoon members that were in the room. "Well, some are sleeping downstairs, and the rest are right here."
"Couldn't have done it better myself." Margot took another sip of her drink as Jones gave a nod towards Liebgott, Grant, Babe, McClung, and Ramirez.
Leaning in closer toward Margot and Malarkey, Jones lowered his voice a little. "Sergeants, a patrol's being planned for tonight, 0100 hours, across the river. Regiment wants POWs for interrogation."
As the two Platoon Sergeants and the Lieutenant stepped to the side toward the window to discuss details further, Margot watched out of the corner of her eye as Liebgott and the other men corner Webster by the bunk beds, no doubt trying to pry information out of him about the patrol.
Margot hated leaving her men in the dark but there wasn't much she could do until she knew everything for herself first.
Turning her attention back to the discussion, Margot listened as Malarkey listed off the sort of firepower that they had, and then what the Germans had. Once his little spiel was done, he pulled out a cigarette and plopped it between his lips. Following his lead, Margot did the same, silently thanking her friend as he used his lighter to light her smoke as well.
"So, I take it this was already an outpost when you arrived?" Jones asked, his hands clasped in front of his body. He was standing up so straight that Margot's spine ached just looking at him.
Malarkey inhaled the nicotine, let it sit in his lungs for a few seconds, and exhaled before answering. "There were some dogies from the 79th infantry, but they left in a hurry."
"What's the report on enemy activity?"
"Expect some flares. Scattered 88s, snipers during the day, few mortars during the night." Margot leaned against the window frame. "Few mortars during the day," she added, remembering the display she had witnessed not ten minutes earlier.
"Yeah, we dodged some mortars on our way in." Jones turned and gestured toward Webster, who was still surrounded by the others like he held the secret to the universe.
Malarkey didn't even feign being worried or impressed. "Mmm," he hummed before looking through the foggy, dirty window. "They also got some sort of railroad gun back there. Shells about the size of a deuce and a half. Sounds like a freight train when one comes over."
Jones eyed the small, Kraut-occupied village on the other side of the body of water. "But they haven't made any attempts to cross the river?"
"No." Malarkey took another drag of his cigarette, the grey smoke spilling out of his mouth seconds later. "They have roofs over their head, sir, just like us. I don't think anybody wants to do anything stupid at this point, right?"
After that, Jones jumped right into explaining the details of the patrol for that evening and listing off the men from 2nd that Speirs wanted. Margot rubbed her eyes with her free hand, groaning at the thought of sending her already overworked Paratroopers on a mission across the river in the middle of the night.
Jones offered to break the news but Margot beat him to it. "Alright, boys. Listen up." She turned to her friends and folded her arms over her chest. "First of all, Liebgott, stop bullying Webster." She decided to lighten the mood first, which earned a few dry chuckles. "Next, I have some bad news, which I knew is everyone's favourite kind of news. There is a patrol set for tonight and so far Speirs wants Heffron, McClung, and Ramirez."
"We know." McClung huffed.
Babe grumbled as he ran his fingers through his red hair. "Yeah, we just fucking heard. Webster here told us."
Webster's face went blank as his fellow troopers sold him out without even so much as a 'please' and 'thank you'.
Hearing the phone ring from beside himself, Malarkey picked up the call and spoke a few simple words before hanging up again. "The PX rations just came in," he announced as he wound the radio up a few times. "Including winter shoe packs."
"Beautiful." McClung smirked.
"Yeah, finally, right?" Malarkey agreed.
Liebgott rested his arm on one of the top bunks and sighed. "Good of 'em, now we're in a nice warm house."
"Also, we got showers."
"Hallelujah!" Margot cheered. She couldn't remember the last time she had a proper shower, so as sad as it might seem, the fact that she got to scrub the dirt off of her body was looking like it might be the highlight of her day.
Before anything else could be said, the all-to-familiar sound of mortars approaching overhead sounded through the town. Jumping into action, with Jones and Webster panicked and following their lead, 2nd platoon darted out of the room and descended the stairs to the basement with such speed and urgency that many of the men ended up falling on their stomachs at the bottom.
Dust and bits of the house fell from the old ceiling as the last of the explosions went off, and from where they were lying on the floor, the men started laughing their asses off. Margot wasn't exactly sure what was so funny but the slight delirium from no sleep and not enough food, paired with the joy on her friends' faces, had her cracking up in no time.
"You are a bunch of messed-up motherfuckers." Margot wheezed as she slowly pushed herself to a sitting position.
Babe offered her a hand up, a wide grin on his face. "Takes one to know one."
"You are very right about that."
Once the excitement was over, the group headed out to take their showers. Margot was a little worried about whether there would be a single stall set up for her and Annie or not, but in all honesty, she really didn't care at that point. One way or another, she was going to shower off the weeks of dirt that had built up on her skin like another layer of clothing.
As Margot stepped out onto the street, she heard a final explosion, followed by someone calling for a medic. Rushing toward the commotion, the machine-gunner found a small gathering of men around Sergeant Kiehn, who had been hit by the mortar attack.
Eugene and Annie were crouched beside the man, but by the looks on their faces—looks that she had seen way too many times before—she knew there was nothing they could do.
Christenson knelt beside the man whom he had deemed a friend, his face void of expression and his hands shaking by his sides. Margot felt a tinge of sadness in her chest, mostly because Bill Kiehn had been a Toccoa man, and not because she had really known him or anything.
It sucked losing a member of the original group, but Margot had learned to have selective sympathy. If she cried and grieved over every lost man, she would lose her mind in a matter of days. After what she went through when she lost Guarnere and Toye, she chose not to let death affect her in such a way anymore. It sounded naive, and it probably was, but for the time being, it helped.
With a comforting pat on Christenson's shoulder, Margot took one last look at the body sprawled out in the middle of the street before turning and walking off with the other men who—as cruel and desensitized as it sounded—had lost interest.
Arriving at the shower tent, Margot wasn't the least bit surprised to see many of the men in nothing but their underwear. She had seen it before, many times, so it didn't bother her; and even if she hadn't seen it before, she was much too fatigued to care.
There were even a few men who decided that stripping all the way down to their birthday suit was necessary, and as much as Margot wished she could avoid seeing the genitalia of men she had to work with on a daily basis, she just went with it and pretended as if it wasn't even happening.
As she walked around, trying to find someone to ask about a private shower, Lipton located her in the crowd and pulled her aside along with Malarkey. Like usual, he didn't come bearing good news. Speirs had also chosen Jackson, Liebgott, Shifty, Popeye, and Webster for the night patrol, with her and Malarkey leading, which was just great.
When Margot and Malarkey gathered up 2nd Platoon to break the news, the men were disappointed but not surprised. Liebgott made his usual remarks, this time about how they pretty much plucked everyone from 2nd, and although Margot couldn't disagree, she encouraged the men to try and just take it all in stride.
Usually, her forced optimistic encouragements fell on deaf ears, but Margot still prided herself in at least trying to be as chipper and upbeat as Annie when she could muster it. Everyone always listened to the small, sweet medic when she gave advice. Margot, not so much, but she was okay with that. She was looked to for orders instead, which in her own way, was like giving advice.
Wandering back over to the shower tent, Margot tracked down one of the higher-ups and asked about a separate shower for the females, but his only reply was that, until then, he hadn't even known there were any females in the Paratroopers.
Rolling her eyes, Margot angrily positioned herself in the regular shower line and waited her turn. A few of the guys started to eye her as she got closer and closer to the front, wondering if she was really going to strip down in front of all of them and shower.
The answer was yes. As much as Margot didn't want to, and as much as she knew that the men seeing her so undressed for the first time would cause a little bit of a situation, she had promised herself that one way or the other, she was going to shower; and by God if she had to jump into the frozen Karut river butt-naked to clean herself, then that was what she was going to do.
As the man in front of her entered the shower tent and moved to stand under one of the many shower heads, Margot swallowed hard and slowly began to take her jacket off. She could feel the many pairs of eyes on her, but as she got closer and closer to standing under the warm water, she began to worry less and less.
After her jacket, she untied her boots and slipped them off along with her socks, then she took her pants off, and finally, she pulled her undershirt over her head. Standing in nothing but her underwear and bra, Margot put her clothes to the side and walked into the tent.
More eyes were on her, but she paid them no mind as she picked a free spot next to Liebgott and behind Malarkey and let the water run over her body. Closing her eyes, Margot tilted her head up and let the stream hit her face and soak her hair. After a minute or so of standing there, her breathing slow as she enjoyed the warmth, she opened her eyes again to the entire tent staring at her.
"What?" she snapped. "Never seen a woman's body before? Grow up and keep your eyes on your own prize."
Immediately, all the heads that had been turned her way, snapped back around. However, the feeling of being watched still lingered. "Liebgott," she warned, knowing it was him before she even turned to face him. "I can actually feel your eyeballs on me. Could you maybe not?"
Liebgott slowly turned away but Margot could still see his excited pupils flickering in her direction every few seconds. Letting out a groan, she snatched the bar of soap from his hands that he had stopped using and began to lather herself up with soap. This, however, only served to draw more attention again.
Eventually, Margot realized that she just had to ignore the stares and do what she needed to do. In all fairness, she couldn't really blame the men. For most of them, it had been about two years since they had had any meaningful human contact, so they were pretty desperate for anything they could get.
After soaping up her body, which made Margot notice just how much her ribs were showing due to how thin she had gotten, she used some of the soap for her hair and scrubbed it in really good with her fingertips before rinsing all of the suds off.
Once she was clean and feeling better than she had in a long time, the female Paratrooper could only chuckle at the occasional glances she was still getting; many of them from Liebgott.
"Wow, I'm way dirtier than I expected. I really should just strip down all the way and give everything a really good scrub." Margot couldn't help messing with the guys a little. With her words, many hands that had previously been busy with washing up, froze.
Even Malarkey, who thus far had been respectful of her and her body, had craned his neck to look at her.
Margot let out a hearty laugh as she ran her fingers through her hair one last time to remove any tangles or chunks of dirt. "Men, I wish you the best for putting up with me, I really do." She tossed the bar of soap back to Liebgott before sauntering out of the tent.
All-in-all, Margot was sure that a good time had been had by all.