" Sometimes the memory of someone is better than the reality of them."
- Steve Maraboli
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Hazel sat on a barrel, cleaning her rifle up when Sergeant Coleman came streaking in like a lightning rode towards where they were set to practice more hand to hand combat.
" You ready?" he asked quickly and Hazel raised a brow, confused. Usually he entered, with a hello, and asked her how she was.
" Are you ok?" Hazel asked him.
" Fine," he answered. Hazel could tell when someone wasn't ok. She was observant, you had to be as a sniper, and that was normally underestimated of her. Hazel met his eyes and gave him a look.
" Sergeant Jenkins approached me again," Sergeant Coleman said.
" Again?" Hazel asked him.
" I told him off, per usual. The guy just pisses me off. It's like he won't even give humans a chance." Coleman said as he shook his head, " He's a prick." Hazel lulled her head side to side with a faint nod.
" Has he said anything to you?" Coleman asked her. She nodded and Coleman raised a brow.
" The usual. Said I should go home, I don't belong here, nothing I haven't heard." Hazel told him as she turned and grabbed her rifle.
" Hazel-"
" I knew when joining that no matter what happened, even if I got the Bronze Star for some heroic battle, that this would remain controversial. There would be theories and rumors. We, as women, had to accept that." Hazel told him. Coleman nodded.
" I just question one thing," Hazel said and Sergeant Coleman glanced at him.
" If he's so pissed about us, why hasn't America heard about it?" Hazel asked him.
" What do you mean?"
" All men of the military were briefed about this, that if they told their families, they could be sentenced to death." Hazel said.
" He probably fears death," Sergeant Coleman told her, and Hazel smirked slightly.
" In war if you fear death, you become it." he told her and Hazel nodded, " Accepting death is the only way you survive."
As May approached with warmer weather just behind it, so did information on some of the battles in the Pacific, or the sinking of ships in the Atlantic from U-Boats, with information flying rapidly through the newspapers on the front page of each and every big name paper in every country.
Lizzie came in with the paper that evening, the title U-Boat Hysteria displayed at the top of the page, typed across it. The U-Boats practically controlled the Atlantic, it was a miracle that the girls had gotten across when they could.
The pictures were horrifying.
Stuff like that usually sent Catherine into a whole new dimension, even besides the crap from Christopher Jenkins. She was hungry for war and everything they had to do with it. She was tired of hearing things happen and still be found sitting here, watching it in front of her and not be able to do a thing. Lizzie was more apt to talk Catherine off the ledge though.
" I swear, the minute I get into war, I'm shooting every Kraut in a 100 mile radius." Catherine spat one night, as she slumped down on bed.
" Hey, Cath," Lizzie said sitting beside her on the bed and gently rubbing her back, " we'll get there soon, but this training, we need it."
" I know," Catherine sighed, running a hand over her face, " it's just I'm tired of hearing all this stuff and I'm still sitting here on this bunk."
" We all are." Hazel said softly and Catherine smiled sadly.
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Lena Parker had been outside, watering the plants in her vegetable garden as the hot Tennessee sun beat down on her back, Daisy lapping at a bowl of water, when footsteps approached her.
" Are you Ms. Parker?" Lena turned and stood to face a group of men, a bunch of farmers from the county farm.
" Yes, I am." Lena said stepping forward.
" Formally, Mrs. Hilton?" he asked. She nodded. That was before her husband had up and left. Parker would always be her maiden name, and be the one she used the rest of her life.
" We were just wondering where your daughter is, she hasn't stopped by to pick up your annual supply of groceries yet." he said.
" She didn't tell you?" Lena asked them. The farmer raised a brow.
" She signed up for the WAC, the Women's Army Corps." Lena said.
" That so?" another farmer asked. Lena nodded.
" She's doing exceptionally well," Lena said to him.
" She gonna visit soon, we'd love to show her the new chickens we have." the farmer said. Lena's blood ran cold.
" No, actually, she's in the top command, she has to remain there, in San Diego." Lena told them. The farmer raised a brow at her.
" Charity Wells from down the street just came back on leave from the WAC, so we thought your daughter would be back. She couldn't get a break?" the farmer asked.
" No, she just told me in her most recent letter. They had her doing all sorts of stuff up there. It's crazy. She's doing lots of training, to then train other WAC members." Lena explained. One of the other farmers in the back was looking at her oddly. Daisy growled but Lena just gripped her collar.
" Is there anything else you need?" Lena asked the trio.
" No," the lead farmer said, " but when she does finally get a chance to visit, tell her to stop on by." Lena nodded with a small forced smile, her heart racing.
" I will," Lena said with a nod. The lead farmer smiled and then turned away the second one following. The third looked at her as she stood there.
" Why hasn't she visited?" he asked her.
" Like I said, she's growing close to top command there and doesn't have much time to visit on break." Lena told him, " Now if you could please get off my property, I have things to attend to and do." The farmer watched her and then glared.
Lena watched the 3 men retreat back down the road as Daisy's growl finally subsided. Lena let go of her collar and then sighed, running a hand over her face. She never had told a soul about Hazel's whereabouts right now, across the world in England, attached to an Airborne Division and she never would, if that's what it took. Lena was her mother and would protect her daughter until the end of her days, even if it meant lying to the fullest extent.
" Come on Daisy, let's head inside and cool you off." Lena said, patting the dog's head softly, and grabbing her tools, before leading the dog inside. She shut the door behind her and locked it gently before heading down the tiny hall to the large kitchen and sitting room and window that overlooked the mountains. Lena slowly leaned back against the counter and sighed.
She prayed for her daughter's safety each and every night, each meal and each time she left the house. She always prayed for Hazel. Hazel was the person she loved the most in her life and she had watched her grow from a child to a young adult, even without her father. She was strong because of it, because the two women had each other. She just wished Hazel could find that same comfort in the two women she talked about, Lizzie and Catherine.
Because having women like that in her life, could aid her through anything because sometimes, you may think you are strong enough but sometimes you need women like that.
And Lena knew that.
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Hazel found herself being able to go into wrestling matches with some of the British men when they were fooling around or waiting around for their training. One of the guys she was fighting, a British lad from London who had joined up in the war at 17, named Thomas Stevenson, was a tall man for his age of 21, but Hazel, being the tiny, rather scrawny person she was, had taken him down within seconds and had pretty much scared the shit out of everyone. She was like this tiny speed bullet, that had quickly wrapped him down on the ground, holding him down as he tapped out quickly.
" Where'd you learn to the do that?" one of the guys had asked.
" My Sergeant's been helping me." Hazel said with a small smile.
Hazel wasn't the only one though of the women who was becoming even more toned and brawn.
Catherine worked with Sergeant Greg Sanderson all the time, a member of the Special Forces with Sergeant Coleman, and she was being trained similarly to Hazel, but instead with her Thompson.
Lizzie was working under Doc Donald Ethridge, who was basically the male version of Lizzie, a blond haired medic with bright blue eyes, who had a funny personality and could get all the girls with heart eyes by anything he said. He was one of the kindest people, but he was also highly intelligent and taught Lizzie some of the greatest skills she would end up needing in the future. Lizzie could have your arm wrapped in under 10 seconds, and morphine injected into your body. Hazel had to admit, but the women were skilled.
Christopher Jenkins was having a hard time accepting that, watching as Hazel fired shot after shot with Sergeant Coleman and hit the bullseye each time, or when Lizzie would grapple one of the guys from the 82nd to the ground, and clean him straight out with betting money, or even when Catherine would show him up in how much she could drink down in shots or in beer.
She had a stomach of steel.
Each woman was intimidating, and it intimidated each man, even if some were too scared to admit it.
Hazel received letters from her mother all the time, the Private that was in charge of mail was constantly in and out of the barracks with letters for Hazel. And Hazel was always overjoyed reading them and just seeing her mother through the page again.
So, there Hazel sat, leaned up against the outside of the barrack, looking out at the setting sun over the base as the stars slowly made their appearance. She immediately saw Cassiopeia, and then she saw Sirius. They were her favorites, she tended to look at them the most. She glanced back down at the letter that was in the process of being written to her mother. In her previous letters, there had never been a message about her dad, but in this one, there was a slight mention and it had made Hazel's heart skip a beat.
Your father just sent a letter the other day, asking how you were doing, if you could write to him. He was discussing reconnecting with you. I told him that you were in the WAC, and weren't sure if you had time to send him a letter. But also remember the last we talked, face to face, that you still were planning on not reconnecting and I respect each and every decision you make, but I would still consider even a small note or letter to him. To get closure or get something off your chest. I know you haven't talked since before, and I feel it would be healthy to do. But I trust you to do whatever you need to do.
Hazel felt tears well in her eyes, as her tiny fists clamped tighter around the paper in her hands. She couldn't read the words anymore, as the first few tears slowly fell down her freckled cheeks.
Hazel put a hand to her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut as she tried not to cry. The thought of communicating with her father again broke her heart. Because he had broken hers, by leaving her, as an innocent child, forced to grow up faster than she wanted.
And on Christmas.
Christmas no longer was Christmas to her and she felt that she had her childhood ripped from her that night.
She'd never get it back.
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hey! so, you got a peak into lena parker's life, hazel's mom, in the middle of this chapter. even though virtually no one knows of the operation, there's supposed rumors and families with women are keeping it under wraps as much as they can. and i felt it was only right to do lena parker justice by showing her and daisy!
i'll possibly upload another chapter just for the fun of it! i've liked these last few chapters!!
thanks for everything!