#hbowarfic

"No idea. But Lieb sure got his ass handed to him," Perconte added, throwing Toye a pack of matches as he passed, still trying to process what he'd witnessed.

Guarnere, ever the cynic, rolled his eyes. “Ain’t no way I just watched some dame outfight Liebgott. Makes no fuckin’ sense.” 

Cobb, unnoticed in the doorway, listened intently. He had a habit of lurking around other bunkhouses, craving a sense of camaraderie he struggled to find in his own. His eyes, ever watchful, focused on the animated discussion as he puffed away on a cigarette.

Webster, unlaced his boots and kicked them to the side before glancing over at Luz, sat half on, half off his cot shuffling a pack of cards, grinning to himself like a Cheshire Cat. “Well you’re best friends with the girl Luz, care to enlighten us on what just went down.” 

Luz looked up at the men staring in his direction. “What the hell should I know?” He said shrugging his shoulders. Webster was right that he was friends with Redcoat, but as for what just took place, he was just as baffled as the rest of the men. 

Randleman chuckled, taking a drag from his cigarette. ‘All I know is that Girl’s got some moves. Reminds me of a wildcat, unpredictable, shifty.” 

“Alright country boy, All I’m saying is I ain’t never seen a dame fight like that, taking down Liebgott like he was a rag doll,” Gaurnere mumbled. 

Malarkey, nursing a bruised ego after being taken down himself, scoffed, "Yeah, but how does a girl like her learn to fight like that? Ain't natural, if you ask me.”

Cobb, seizing the opportunity to contribute to the conversation, spoke up from the doorway. "I heard she's almost outshooting Shifty. What kind of girl can shoot like that?” The mention of her marksmanship prowess added another layer of intrigue to the already mysterious woman. The men exchanged puzzled glances, each grappling with their theories about her background and abilities.

“Yeah, and where the hell d'you hear that?” Toye replied, his eyes rolling in disbelief, barely looking in Cobbs's direction. 

“Spiers.” He replied, matter of factly. “Maybe she’s a German spy, sent to sabotage us from the inside,” Cobb suggested, his voice low and conspiratorial.

The room fell silent as the suggestion hung in the air. The men exchanged uneasy glances, the idea taking root in their minds.

"A spy? Jeez, Cobb, that's a bit far-fetched," Malarkey scoffed. 

"Think about it," Cobb insisted. "She just shows up out of nowhere, none of us know a damn thing about her. Almost outshooting Shifty, Liebgott getting his ass handed to him?”

"I've been shooting since I was a kid, and she was giving me a run for my money,” Shifty mentioned, shuffling his hands in his lap. “But I’m not saying she’s a spy or anything.” He shot his hands up in defense. 

The bunkhouse was filled with a charged atmosphere, discomfort and suspicion swirling like a storm. 

"Maybe she's some kind of martial arts expert," Perconte suggested, trying to rationalize what they had witnessed. "You know, like those Japs with their karate stuff.”

The tension was broken by Jonny Martin shoulder passing Cobb as he made his way into the bunkhouse, giving him a shifty look as he passed, soaked through from the rain.

 “Who died?” He said pointedly, uncomfortable by the silence from the usually rambunctious group.

“Liebgott’s dignity.” Cobb scoffed from behind him.

Martin’s eyebrows raised in response. “Yeah, I just came from that way, had to help hold Liebgott down while they popped his arm back in. Could hear Sobel chewing her out from a mile off. He said shaking his head at the thought. 

As the conversation lingered, Cobb slipped away from the doorframe, leaving the men to contemplate the enigma that had entered their ranks. In the world of war, where every secret held potential danger, the bunkhouse at Camp Toccoa became a hub of suspicion and curiosity, its occupants unwittingly drawn into a web of unanswered questions about the girl who had just proven herself more than a match for Liebgott.

— -

The flickering light from the film projector cast shadows on the walls of the dimly lit hut as the men gathered for an evening of official training films lecturing the men on the importance of hygiene. The echoes of Liebgott's disgruntled mumbles still lingered in the air, the atmosphere around the men was tense, a mixture of confusion accompanied by an undercurrent of suspicion surrounding the outsider. The War Department’s attempt at a Nickelodeon droned on as Lily sat amongst the rabble, her eyes rolling at the notion that grown men needed instruction on basic cleanliness, her expression one of amused bewilderment. 

As the film extolled the virtues of regular showers, Lily couldn't help but mutter under her breath to Luz, “This is ridiculous. What’s next, a tutorial on how to tie their boots?” 

Luz chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. "You'd be surprised what some of these guys need to be reminded of.”

Their hushed conversation didn't escape the notice of Cobb, who sat in the row behind. Always on the lookout for an opportunity to needle Lily, he leaned in between the pair and smirked, "Well, Redcoat, maybe some folks need these lessons more than others. I've never seen you in the showers, you know.”

She turned slowly to face the man. ”Perhaps that's because I like to keep an air of mystery, Cobb. I’d rather run Currahee with Sobel strapped to my back than have to shower within ten feet of you.” Her eyes squinting as she smirked to match him. 

Cobb's face reddened in embarrassment, and he retorted, "You think you're clever, don't you? Just wait till you're out there in the real action, sweetheart.” He said, folding his arms as he slunk back into his seat. Dissatisfied with the exchange, Cobb grumbled to Toye, "She's always got some smart-ass comment.” 

A sshhh was aimed at Cobb from further down the row, his head whipped back and forth to find the culprit. “I’m just saying, I ain't ever seen her in the showers.” He voiced to an uninterested Toye again.

Shifty sighed, lighting up a cigarette before he answered the man. "You see, Cobb, Sobel don’t let her shower with the rest of us. Makes her wait until the coast is clear.” 

Cobb's annoyance deepened. "What? Why does she get special treatment?”

“Why the hell do you care?” Toye responded, not even bothering to look in Cobb’s direction, seemingly more interested in the virtues of regular sock changes over the small man’s problem. Sensing his wall, Cobb whispered something to Liebgott, still nursing his shoulder as he replied, muttering something unintelligible, and the conversation moved on as the training film continued to play. Unbeknownst to Lily, whispers circulated among those who had overheard the conversation. Lily, caught in the crossfire of prejudice and resentment, became the unwitting target of a brewing storm within the ranks. The shadows of contention stretched across the hut, setting the stage for a night that would test the fragile bonds of brotherhood.

— - 

The bathhouse at Camp Toccoa was a modest structure, a refuge for the trainees to wash away the grime of the day and the bruises of training. Lily stood alone in the quiet, having waited patiently for the usual post-training rush to subside. The air was thick with the lingering scent of soap and damp towels. She couldn't help but smirk at the thought that, perhaps, the men had indeed learned something from the training film, given that they had taken double their usual time in the showers, accompanied by the water fogging over and dripping from the unending row of mirrors.

She surveyed her reflection in the foggy mirror, her eyes drawn to the bruises adorning her face like paint. A particularly nasty shiner, courtesy of Liebgott's unyielding fist during the hand-to-hand combat drill, dominated the canvas. She sighed, tracing her fingers across the swollen skin, wincing as she met the peak, not broken-thank God, but not great either. Her hands moved up to the braided bun that sat at the nape of her neck, eager to relive the tension headache stemming from it. The pins holding it in place dinged on the sink as she shook out her long hair, allowing it to fall around her shoulders. Lily threaded her fingers through the dark brunette strands, massaging her scalp as she went. It had been tempting once or twice to cut it short and mimic the men in that regard, hell it would make her life a lot easier, however, she couldn’t quite bring herself to reach for the clippers. 

She pushed herself off the sink and made her way over to the shower, her body ached to stand under the hot water and wash the day away. The showers had become some sort of sanctuary for her. Sobel’s attempt at keeping her at arm's length from the men was playing to her benefit. It was the only place in the entire camp where she could be alone, a space to think, to remind herself why she joined, she craved the solace it provided. 

She hung her towel on the hook outside the stall, reaching in to turn the hot water on before stepping in and allowing the hot stream to drench her body, the rhythmic patter of droplets echoed in the tiled hut, a stark contrast to the eerie silence that hung in the air. Lily couldn’t remember a time she had showered without her PT uniform still on - a precautionary measure, better to be safe than sorry she thought. She watched as the water blended her shirt with her skin, her underwear with her dirt-speckled legs. As she placed her head back beneath the water, she sensed a shift in the air - a subtle change that pricked at her instincts, unable to shake the feeling that something was amiss. 

She halted, her breath shallow, straining to hear any out-of-place noise. The air seemed to thicken as the steam filled the hut, she could barely make out the muted sound of a boot squeaking on the tile floor. Before she could react, a sudden blow shot through the shower curtain and struck her side, knocking her against the shower wall. Lily gasped, pain shooting through her ribs. The dim light blurred through the shower curtain barely revealing two dark figures closing in on her. Dread set in as she realized she had been followed. The tension that had lingered since she arrived had erupted into something more sinister. The echoes of their footsteps mixed with the rhythmic pounding of the water against the tiles, created a disorienting symphony of violence. She could feel the oppressive confinement of the bathhouse closing in around her, her training instincts drowned out by the brutal reality of the ambush.

The second blow came quickly, a fist struck the side of her head, the force knocking her back against the cold, tiled wall. Lily gasped for air, her ribs protesting the impact. Before she could recover, another blow landed, this time to her stomach, doubling her over. The shadows seemed to close in, the scent of soap mixing with the metallic tang of blood. The main instigator, a burly soldier, led the charge. His accomplice, hesitant but spurred on by misplaced loyalty, flanked him. As they closed in, Lily's muscles tensed.

In the disorganized struggle, Lily managed to dodge the next blow, sliding further down the wall and jutting out her right leg from where she was slumped over, connecting with the right assailant's midsection as he moved in. However, before she could capitalize on the momentary advantage, the reality of her outnumbered position became painfully clear as her attackers overpowered her, grabbing her and hauling her out of the stall. As Lily’s abdomen took another blow, recognition flashed across the face of one of her assailants, followed by shock.

"You didn't say it was the girl!" He hissed, his initial aggression giving way to disbelief as his grip on the girl loosened. 

The main assailant didn’t hesitate with his next blow, his fist connecting with the bruise already given to her that day by Liebgott, unfazed by the soldier's protest.

Cornered and outnumbered, Lily attempted to fight back with every ounce of strength she could muster. Yet, the confined space of the bathhouse restricted her movements, turning the struggle into a nightmarish dance where every move felt like a step closer to defeat. A vicious blow to her leg sunk Lily to the floor, her knees giving out beneath her. As the blows rained down, Lily's fingers groped for anything that could turn the tide. A boot, a towel, anything. Her heart stopped as her eyes landed on a speck of glitter, her fingers erratically slapped the floor in search, until they closed around what felt like an accidentally discarded razor under the sink, its cool metal offering a fleeting sense of hope. In a desperate bid for survival, Lily flung her body over, her arm carving through the air looking for her assailants. A guttural cry mixed with the sounds of struggle emanated from behind her as she slashed back, a momentary disruption in the violent ballet. However, the respite was short-lived. Her victim, blinded by rage, retaliated with a singular savage blow that sent Lily crashing against the hard, tiled shower wall. The impact reverberated through her skull, and the world blurred into a disorienting mosaic of pain and darkness. As Lily's consciousness waned, the bathhouse echoed with the retreating footsteps of the men, leaving only the oppressive silence of betrayal and brutality. The steam lingered like a shroud over the scene, and the shadows, now stained with the taste of vengeance, swallowed the fallen girl in a world where loyalty had been twisted into something unrecognizable.

— - 

“You ain’t got no poker face Perconte.” George Luz jeered, leaning back on his stool as he tossed another coin onto the growing pile. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, radio-boy.” He replied, checking his cards for the third time. “I’m gonna take all your money, and then your girls tonight at the bar.”

“Sure about that, but you’re down an ace and you’ve got two 7’s & a 4 so I don’t know how you’re planning on turning that around.” 

“What the hell!? You’re cheating!” Perconte erupted, throwing his cards onto the cot as he shot up from his seat.

“I can see your cards in the window reflection dumbass.” Luz laughed, leaning back on his chair, puffing away at a lucky strike. 

The commotion caught the attention of Martin, the tip of his rifle glinting in the dim light, who shot a stern look at the bickering duo. “Shut up already, would ya? You got loud mouths on you.” He grumbled, trying to maintain focus on his polishing. Toye, lounging on his bunk, engrossed in a comic book added, “Yeah, I’m trying to read here, take your damn argument outside.”

The barracks erupted into chaos as insults flew across the room. Amidst the turmoil, the bunkhouse door swung open, almost unnoticed. Perconte, ready to fire back at Toye, fell silent, his gaze fixed on a young figure making her way up into the bunkhouse. 

“What the hell?” Perconte whispered, one arm still pointed at Toye, the other gripping the bed frame he had been attempting to climb over, perched half on, half off the ground. 

The room fell into a hush as the battered figure passed by them. Dripping wet, she silently made her way toward her cot at the rear of the bunkhouse, her eyes fixed forward, ignoring the confused and pained expressions on the faces of the men as she passed. 

Liebgott’s trademark smirk vanished as his eyes fell upon the injuries that marred Lily’s face and body. “Jesus Christ.” Escaped from his lips before he even realized it.

She locked eyes with him as she passed, sending a shiver through him. Her eyes were haunting, both bloodshot red, the left curtained by a deep purple crescent-shaped bruise that was split open at the tip, and a wet trail of blood oozed its way down her reddened cheek. Joe’s eyes trailed a droplet of blood as it fell from a jaunty slit in her eyebrow. She made no attempt to blink it away, staring into him as it pooled into her wet lashes. 

He felt his breath hitch as she stopped at the base of his cot, his hands tensed in his pockets and his usual smirk was nowhere to be seen. It was only seconds, perhaps just one, perhaps it was two, but to Joe, it felt like hours, his eyes scanned her as he waited. Her clothes were soaked through, with both water and blood. It clung to her figure like a whisper, revealing the lines of her body, her arms, her chest, her waist. His eyes dropped, fixing on an unsettling mark, a vivid testament to her encounter. A red-orange bloodstain, once bold and intense, now transformed into a disconcerting hue as it mingled with the damp fabric, it betrayed a muted vibrancy, creating an unappealing palette of rusty tones against the stark white backdrop of her shirt, telling a silent story. She couldn’t help but feel uneasy as his eyes took in the spectacle before him, the silence between them disturbed by the slow drip of her diluted blood onto the floorboards between them. His eyes moved up to meet hers, noticing the staggered rise and fall of her chest as she breathed through her pain. She took one last look up at the man, before walking back towards her bunk. 

An uncomfortable tension hung in the air as the subsequent moments unfolded with disquieting ease. The room bore witness to a palpable weight, settling like a thick fog, as the men, observed in silent contemplation. The battered girl, a resilient figure despite her injuries, delicately moved to slide off her jump boots at the bedside. As she gingerly bent over, a wince etched across her face, George Luz felt the urge to move, to say something. Yet, his words remained unspoken, caught in his throat, as he watched in wide-eyed confusion. 

“Luz” Her voice broke through the silence, grabbing the attention of every man in the room. 

“Luz” She repeated, herself, her voice strained as she stared at the radioman. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah, what do you need?” He hesitated, taking in a deep breath as he waited for her reply. 

“A shirt.”

“Um, yeah, I’ve got you, I can do that.” Luz pushed past Perconte and started riffling through his trunk in search of a clean shirt, muttering to himself as he did. Once secured, he stood up, his eyes meeting those of Bull Randleman’s both seemingly searching each other’s for a level of understanding of what they were seeing. With a head jerk from Bull, he walked over to the girl, placing it on the bed next to her, watching her peel off her shirt, a sharp intake of breath escaped her as it moved over her fresh wound.

As the shirt slid away, it revealed an intricate tapestry of marks. The men traced their path, some fresh, some seemingly older. As the extent of her wounds emerged, the atmosphere bore witness to a sobering reality. The air seemed to tighten with a peculiar mix of discomfort, shame, and sudden awareness. The men found their eyes trailing down her body, landing at the large pronounced scar on her abdomen, Luz could feel his heartbeat in his hands as he stood next to her. The fusion of her wounds and the unveiling of her femininity momentarily disrupted their comfort, and a sense of collective venerability permeated the room. 

The hallowed silence lingered, pregnant with unspoken thoughts and emotions, as the men grappled not solely with the reality of her injuries, but with the realization that beneath the uniform and the battlefield they were to share, there existed a woman with an intricate narrative - a narrative that now unfolded before them, leaving them suspended in a moment where the boundaries between soldier and woman, ally and stranger, blurred into an uneasy alliance of shared humanity. 

Randleman was the first to move, exchanging a glance with Guarnere, a silent understanding passed between them. They rose from their seats across the bunkhouse simultaneously, their expressions almost unreadable, a mix of concern and an underlying anger that simmered just beneath the surface. Lily, still standing by her bunk, felt the weight of their intrigue as they approached her. 

Bull, jaw clenched, spoke first. “You gonna tell us what this is?” His head loomed over hers, the perspective making her feel even smaller than usual. 

Lily sniffed in response, her eyes focused on finding the opening to the shirt. “I’m fine.” She replied, her head fixed downwards. Her voice held a fragile quality, desperately trying to maintain a facade of indifference. 

“Don’t look fine to me.” Guarnere cut in, his fists tightening in his pockets.

Lily remained stoic, silent. The room, buzzing with tension, held its breath as the trio engaged in a silent dance of unspoken words and palpable discomfort. 

“Then I fell.” She said halfheartedly, pulling the fresh shirt over her battered frame. The crisp white cotton was marked instantly by her wounds. 

“Like fuck you fell.” Guarnere moved closer to her, only to be stopped by a hand on his chest. 

“Go get Doc Bill,” Martin said pointedly, ignoring the look from the fired-up man, anger etched across his face. “Roe,” Martin spoke again, pointedly. 

Bull seized the opportunity before she could speak, “Roe’s gotta take a look at you. No arguments.” Lily’s resistance wavered as Bull’s stern gaze bore into hers. “If you won’t go willingly, I will pick you up and take you there myself, little bird.” His voice left no room for negotiation. 

Lily’s body was beginning to feel the weight of her injuries as she stood there, the adrenaline fading away. She wiped away at a trail of blood as it threatened to trickle into her eye, wincing at the bruise it lay against. Bull Randleman’s determination seemed unwavering, his gaze drilling into her. Finally, with a resigned nod, she gave in. The room’s oppressive silence persisted, only broken by the shuffling of feet and the sound of Martin issuing orders. 

— - 

The journey to the medical bay was solemn, tension and anger hung thick in the air. Bull reached out a supportive arm as they left sight of the bunkhouse, holding onto the girl with a tight grip. They walked silently, her steps slow and uneven, each footstep resonating with the gravity of the situation. 

She couldn’t help but wipe the trail of blood that was escaping her nose multiple times during the walk, her fingers staining a deeper shade of crimson each time. The mounting physical pain, combined with the emotional gravity had left her in a sweat of weary resignation. Yet, she remained quiet, occasionally glancing at the faces of the men escorting her, each carrying their own blend of anger and concern. 

Tag list:

— -

The bunkhouse was filled with the chorus of snoring soldiers broken only by the occasional creek of an ever restless Joe Toye rolling in his cot. All were sleeping soundly, except for Private Lily Darlington who was curled into a ball at the very top of her bed. Gentlestreaks of moonlight had trickled their way through the windows, glinting off a pair of dog tags clasped between her hands partially hidden beneath the covers, her fingers glided over the raised letters as she accosted herself at her inability to control her emotions. She sucked in a silent breath and pulled the blanket over her mouth in attempt to stifle any noise as she endeavoured to catch her breath. It had been a week since she’d last slept through the night without being plagued by a nightmare. It wasn’t unusual for them to hit once a fortnight, even once a week at their worst. She was used to that, she expected that, however lately, she was lucky to go two to three days between them. She hadn’t had a full nights sleep for a week, and it was starting to show. It was causing her to lose her sturdy exterior, she had started to quip back whenever Liebgott made a joke at her expense, and she’d purposefully tripped up Guarnere on the obstacle course the previous day due to his somewhat degrading comments on her performance. 

Each time was the same. Waking up, drenched in her own sweat, a searing pain emanating from her old wound accompanied by the smell of blood still lingering in her nostrils. It was part of the gig, came with the job she had been warned. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she placed her head between them, letting her fingertips graze over the scar as she sat there listening to the cicadas chirping outside the barracks. Their true meaning escaped her, she understood that she would have to be void of all human emotions if she weren’t to let past experiences stay with her, but why they haunted her was a question she had little answers to. It was a miracle that she had kept it to herself this long, how she hadn’t woken any of the men with her gasps or thrashing about. Lily thanked her lucky stars as she ran her hands through her damp hair, the groans from the springs beneath her sending a gentle reminder to maintain the peace within the quiet cabin as she gently knotted up her boots and tied her PT sweater around her waist. 

As she quietly sneaked out of the bunkhouse for some desperately needed air she found herself so lost in her own head that she didn’t notice the pair of eyes on her from across the room watching with a curious intensity.

— - 

“Yeah well I bet you’re regretting it now.” The irritating register of Perconte’s voice filled the latrine as he leant on the wall, half in and half out in the open door way, puffing his way through a lucky strike and scraping at a dirt stain on his shirt. 

“How was I supposed to know he’d hear me.” Luz looked up at his friend with a less than amused look on his face as he sat, back to the wall, tapping the excess ash from his cigarette into the bucket by his feet. 

“Ahh he’s got it out for all of us, yesterday was just your lucky turn.” Perconte answered.

“Last week was my lucky turn too, first time in my life I hope I run out of luck.” Luz said, his forearms on his knees as he took a deep breath of his cigarette. 

“You should be grateful, ain’t nobody been as lucky as Redcoat here, every goddamn day Sobel sees fit to reward her.” Perconte looked towards the girl scrubbing away in the corner, rolling his eyes to her seemingly obliviousness to the two men’s conversation. 

“Ain’t that right Redcoat? Hmmmmm?” Perconte clicked at the girl, trying to pull her attention from the floor. “Ears like a hawk that one” he mock whispered to Luz.

“I bet he can hear me in his sleep.” Luz replied, ignoring the short man’s half hearted attempt to irritate his punishment companion. 

“I bet he can hear you smoking and not scrubbing.” Perconte taunted tipping the sud bucket with his boot. 

Luz replied by flicking his half finished cigarette at the man, grabbing the brush from the wobbly bucket and began to scrub the tiled floor again, a little harder than necessary, his eyes conveying a less than amused look. 

“Well I’m off to enjoy this sunny afternoon, a free pass afternoon, do whatever the hell I feel like.” Perconte taunted.

Luz reached for the nearby bucket in retaliation, “you’re gonna be doing it soaking wet if you don’t get outta here” grinning to himself as Perconte made his way back out into the glorious sunshine, leaving Luz and Lily to scrub their afternoon away in the musty latrine. 

“Enjoy.” He spoke, his palms raised in defence, stepping out of the door way and cocking his head towards the girl in the corner with an eye roll.

Back in the corner, Lily knelt by the shower drain up to her elbows in suds from scrubbing the filthy floor, amazed by how the dark speckled tile was actually a light brown, hidden by a thick layer of dirt, grime, and God knows what else. She had been so graciously gifted the afternoon of latrine duty for an unknown infraction that Sobel had concocted the day prior during the afternoon obstacle course exercise after she had displeased him for the thousandth time that day, probably simply from existing. She wasn’t in the know as to Luz’s infraction, but she guessed that it was most likely due to his inability to keep his colorful thoughts to himself during the exercise, although, some of his impressions of Lieutenant ‘stick up his arse’ did make the time pass quicker. So now, they had the pleasure of each others company whilst they spent their first free afternoon in forever scrubbing the dirtiest part of the barracks as the rest of the men lamented in the summer sunshine. 

Without Perconte’s commentary echoing around the building the only sounds were that of the two scrubbing brushes rhythmically sanding away at the grimy floor. The silence was palpable. Lily didn’t mind the cleaning duty as much as Sobel probably hoped she would, she much preferred it to running a couple of miles in the humid sun with a full pack, and whilst she didn’t know Private Luz all that well, he’d been sticking to his end of the latrine, and wasn’t causing her any trouble thus far, so it came as a surprise to her when he broke the silence. 

“You know, if they’d mentioned in that damn Life article that being a paratrooper meant spending two sorry years of my life stuck with Sobel I might not have signed up so fast.” Luz stood up from his bent over scrubbing position, groaning as he clicked his body back into shape and wandered over to find where he’d left his water canteen, leaning back against the sinks, mulling over the absurdity of his situation. He looked over at the girl, scrubbing away at the endless grime that covered the floor, continuing to ignore him.

Lily had been part of Easy Company for some time now, that part being ignored, unwanted, forcing her to the back or just pretending she didn’t exist, the men always attempting to keep her an arms length away from the action. Luz wouldn’t have known she was still there if it weren’t for Sobel’s incessant barking at her. She didn’t speak up much in the classroom, never sat with the men at chow - never invited to sit with the men either he noted, even during the evenings before lights out she was either nowhere to be seen or already in bed turned away from whatever group conversation was taking place. 

“You don’t talk much do you?.” He peered over at her hunched figure as she continued scrubbing, when she didn’t answer he cleared his throat a little louder than necessary. 

“Hey Luz, how are you today? Well Redcoat, I was doing just fine until I had to come here and scrub! I love scrubbing, I’m so thankful that Lieutenant Sobel gifts it to me so often, it keeps my arms strong and my spirits high.” He chuckled to himself, tilting his head slightly in the hopes that she saw the peace offering he was attempting. 

She glanced behind herself, irritated at Luz’s attempt at humour, raising a singular eyebrow as she made eye contact with the sniggering man. 

“Oh thank god, it worked! You aren’t deaf! Had me worried for a minute there.” A ridiculous smile plastered across his face as he stared at Lily, waiting for an answer. She remained on the ground, one hand on her brush, one of the floor, her eyes attempting to bore a hole through his head. Her stare was beginning to make him think that they may have been better off in silence, his heart rate only slowing as he let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in as she broke eye contact and slumped herself into a seated position, grabbing her canteen and taking a long, slow drink. 

Lily’s body ached from being bent over too long and her hands were raw from scrubbing, she had blisters on her palms from days of climbing ropes and scaling beams, she wasn’t in the mood for jibes or jabs. Her gaze remained off in the distance until she noticed Luz still looking at her, waiting on a reply, she was too tired for this, but she was too tired to continuously ignore him for the remaining hours of scrubbing they still had left.

“I’m touched?” her voice monotonous, her face unimpressed. 

The pair stared across the latrine at each other in their respective corners, an awkward silence dragging between them as neither knew what to say next. George realised that it might be the first time he’d actually properly talked to her, actually talking to her, rather than the odd nod when they came in contact during exercises. He couldn’t help but feel that part of her hesitation in talking is his own fault. By no means has he been the worst, but he hasn’t been all that forthcoming in welcoming their latest addition to the Company. He’s seen how she sits alone reading on her bunk at night, whilst the rest of the men play cards and enjoy themselves, how any conversation dies down if she merely walks past a group. A strong feeling of guilt washed over him as he racked his brain for what to say next.

“George Luz.” He wiped his hand on his pant leg before extending it towards her.

“I know who you are.” She looked towards his hand but made no move to accept the gesture.

“I know you do, and I know who you are too. Ain’t this how you do it in England? Introductions and shit?” He pushed himself off the sinks as she continued to just stare back at him, motionless. 

“Christ Redcoat, shake my damn hand, I ain't got cooties.” He stood there for a moment, his mind dancing between pride and patience before taking a few steps towards the girl, sitting himself down opposite her and extending his hand again. The lump in his chest evaporated as she waited a few moments, before placing her canteen back on the ground and with a firm shake she replied. 

“Lily Darlington.”

“And here I was thinking all this time that your name was Redcoat.” He mocked.

“I can see how you would think that.” She replied, her eyes rolled as she slumped her back against the cool wall.

“Sobel seems to really have it out for you.” He said, dancing on the edge of conversation.

“I’m starting to get the notion that he doesn’t quite like me.” She said in jest, it wasn’t enough to form a laugh, but she let out a huff of air.

“You ain’t wrong there.” He replied, stretching his legs out across the half scrubbed tile floor. 

“Well, perhaps my day just wouldn’t shine the same if Sobel didn’t remind me how worthless I am to the Company. Keeps me eager.” She turned and winked at him as she took another sip from her canteen, the suds from her elbows dripping onto her pant leg. She’d almost forgotten how it felt to have an actual conversation with someone, she felt as if she hadn’t said anything of substance in weeks. 

“You’re funny when you actually talk you know.” Chuckling when he receives a sarcastic seeming eyebrow raise and hint of a smile out of her.  “I don’t know how you do it,  I got six sisters and they cry if I so much as comment on anything they do, I hate the guy and he ain’t half as bad on me” Luz’s expression crinkled. 

“Its manageable.” She spoke as she scraped the sudds off her arms and shook them back into the bucket. 

Manageable, it was just about manageable, however it was teetering close to unbearable. She had a stern spirit, and a stiff upper lip, but not even she was unbreakable. They had so much more training to go, and then goodness knows how many years actually in the thick of it. If she couldn’t break the seal on the men’s freeze out then she had no hope of survival.

“Manageable, hmmm. Your Lieutenant hates you, your Company ain’t so keen on you either. Either you’re one determined son of a bitch, or you’re crazy.” He replied with a single eyebrow raise. 

“I’m not entirely sure I want to be friends with people who spit in my food.” She replied.  

“That’s Liebgott, he’s a jackass. And we don’t all hate you, we just don’t know you. You’re the only broad outta nine companies. You gotta see how weird that is.” 

“I see that it’s different, I don’t necessarily see it as the disadvantage that your lot do. I don’t even think they realise to know me they’d actually have to talk to me first, their friendship hasn’t exactly been forthcoming.”

“That’s fair.” He replied, his hands raised in defence. “We ain’t exactly been forthcoming, maybe it don’t come easy talking to a broad if it ain't at a bar for my lot?” He winked at her, met by a disapproving look. 

“I know you and I don’t think you’re all that bad. ” He smiled at her.

“You’ve known me, all of, two minutes?” Her sarcastic tone coming out again as she glanced down at her watch ticking away on her wrist. 

“I only let the very best of people be my friends.” He said mockingly.

“You’re friends with Liebgott…” She replied looking through her eyebrows.

“I am friendly with Liebgott, there’s a difference.” He smiled back. “Two long minutes, give it six months, we’re gonna be best friends.” His face turned to her with a childish grin plastered across it. 

“Is that so?” Her pitch raised as she suppressed a laugh at the mans premonition. 

“I know these things, feel it in my bones.” He winked before standing up and ‘wiggling his bones’ as he made his way back over to his own bucket, laughing to himself as left.

The pair fell back into their quiet rhythmic scrubbing, broken every so often by Luz trying to make conversation, and to his surprise, Lily trying to reply in a way that showed him she wasn’t entirely disinterested by his peace making attempts. After the lack lustre interactions she was used to she didn’t want to get too optimistic over a single conversation, but she couldn’t help feeling that it might be a tiny step in the right direction. 

— -

A hint of a smile crept across Lily’s face as she hung the buckets back up in the supplies closet. The pair had finally finished their punishment and Luz had rushed off to enjoy the rest of the afternoon with the men, something about Bull Randleman owning him a pack of smokes from their poker game the previous night. Lily had offered to finish up the job, and afterwards planned to find a quiet corner and watch the world go by, she had been looking forward to doing nothing for so long and her body was begging for a break. 

With her smile still lingering and her heart a little lighter she made her way along the barracks towards the quieter end of the camp, turning the corner without noticing the large figure coming straight towards her until it was too late, smacking head on, and sending both parties stumbling back, the ground littered with papers that Lily could only assume the other party had been rushing somewhere.

“I’m so sorry!” Lily exclaimed, gathering up all the lose sheets around her before looking up to see exactly who she had run into. Her heart dropped in her chest when her eyes raised to meet those of Lewis Nixon’s, Lieutenant Lewis Nixon’s, “Sir.” She tried to add quickly, however in her shocked state, it came out more like a whisper, much to her embarrassment. 

His eyes lowered for a split second before he also reached for the loose sheets, shoving them haphazardly into the file tightly grasped in his hands, almost in an attempt to by himself some time to think of something logical to say. Before it could conjure anything Lily’s hand thrust out towards him as she offered his remaining papers, his eyes met hers once again, and he drew in a sharp breath as he took them from her grasp. They both stood there awkwardly, waiting for the other to speak first. 

It hadn’t really sunk in for him yet. He still didn’t truly believe she was here. That it was actually her. Yes he’d sat through the meeting with her and Winters, however, most of it was a blur to him, he was certain he was being pranked and any moment now his sister Blanche would pop out from behind a tree, grab Lily and run off giggling. He felt as if he had been shot upon seeing her unannounced all these years later. She had been here for weeks now, yet he found himself avoiding her, filling every available hour with extra tasks just to minimise the amount of time in which he’d actually have to face her. He just couldn’t understand what the hell she was doing here - the Lily he knew would not be here. 

Lily could feel a flush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks, she had been wanting to speak to Lewis privately ever since she arrived, yet could never seem to find an appropriate moment, now she had one she couldn’t even seem to form a single word out of her mouth, it didn’t help that he was staring at her in an unnerving manner. Before either of them could say anything Lieutenant Winters called out for him. His eyes rose to the source of the voice across the far side of the opposite field before dropping back to meet hers with a regretful expression. 

“I have to go.” Was all he could bring himself to say before pushing past her small frame and dashing off to the very meeting he had just made himself late for, grimacing at the way he had just handled the situation, knowing full well he was just making everything more complicated for his future self and somewhat guilty for not even saying hello to the girl he was once so very close to. 

— -

If persistence was a person it would be George Bloody Luz. It was evident that he been steadfast in his intentions in becoming best friends, but to be fair, Lily hadn’t been stopping him. She was right about the step, which had actually turned out to be more of a leap, George Luz didn’t seem to do anything halfheartedly. She had begun to enjoy having a someone to shoot the shit with as they scaled Currahee, someone to compare notes with after a classroom exercise, to stand in line with at the mess hall as they awaited that evenings sloppy serving of grub. Luz had even been trying to get her to sit alongside the men at meals, to which she complied, but somehow always found herself perched half on half off the bench, too far away to be able to be involved in any discussion. One step forward, one step back. Lately they’d even found themselves sat out the back of the Barracks late in the evenings before curfew, sharing a laugh, going over the best and the worst parts of that day, occasionally joined by Floyd Talbert or another one of Luz’s friends, which only seemed to make her situation feel even more isolating, ironic really. Lily craved the dynamic that George had with the rest of the chaps, the camaraderie and the comfort it seemed to bring him at the end of a long day when he could truly be himself. It was a harsh reality, not one that she was expecting either, that to let herself be open to any form of friendship, she had to be able put her guard down, not to mention swallowing her pride. 

In a surprise turn of events, the men seemed to take the lead from Luz, she was far from getting into conversation with anyone new, however when she sat next to Luz at chow the previous evening, she received head nods from some of the others at the bench, and Randalman had even saved her a seat. It was an improvement, a very small improvement, but one she so desperately needed. 

— -

"You know Nix, I think if you stare any harder you might just fall through that window.” Winters noted from beneath his stack of papers. 

“I am not staring, I am observing.” He replied, eyes fixated on the field before him.

“That her?” Spiers motioned to the short figure at the back of the group.

“Sure is” Winters replied, placing his papers down and joining the men congregated around the window. 

The trio stood side by side behind the window, watching the line of Privates as they stood in formation, being barked at by their beloved Lieutenant Sobel. Nixon’s eyes fixed on the form of Private Lily Darlington at the end of the line, a full head and shoulders below her fellow men, the longer he stared the less he began to recognise the girl he once new. 

— -

“Easy Company, each of you will select a strip of paper! On that paper will be a name, that name will be your partner for the rest of the day, there will be no trading partners, no exceptions!” Sobel’s voice cried as he thrust the helmet forcefully into Lily’s hands.

She groaned as she grabbed a strip from the pile, she had gotten away with mostly pairing Luz for the week. Sparing wasn’t anything new to her, in all actuality she excelled at it, but there in lay her problem. Her position within the Company already ruffled feathers and had the men asking all sorts of questions that she had little interest or ability to answer. If she had gone from quiet girl at the back of the group, to launching grown men over her shoulder within a day she doubted that she’d be able to escape without explaining herself. Luz was her scapegoat, not that he knew it. She had let him lead the training, she tried to spar with her non dominate hand to lessen the blows, heck he’d even commended her on her improvements the day before. As she passed the helmet towards George she said a silent prayer that the name on her slip was an easy opponent, whilst she knew she was going to have to suppress herself, she wasn’t exactly hoping to have to take a punch from the likes of Bull or even Guarnere, she was hoping to remain under the radar, not in the medical bay. 

“Who’d you get?” George whispered across to her, passing the helmet to its next victim. 

Lily felt her prayer fall from the sky and slap her as she opened the strip of paper between her fingers. Inked across in a barely legible scrawl was the one name she’d have paid good money to not see.

Liebgott. 

She tilted the paper towards him and rolled her eyes as an amused grin swept across his face.

“Weren’t you saying yesterday how much he deserves a ‘kick up the arse’” Luz replied, mocking her accent rather crassly, his eyebrows wiggling in jest.

With a look of distain she nodded towards his paper, the corners of her mouth turning up as she read ‘Randalman’, looks like Luz will have a tussle of his own. 

“Find your partner and pair up!” Sobel yelled from the other side of the field. 

“Have fun!” Luz mocked as Lily dragged herself towards the other end of the field to find her unlucky partner. She was barely 10 steps towards where he was stood before she could feel his eyes beginning to glare a hole through her.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me, boys, this is gonna be fun.” He spat, looking her up and down before shoulder passing her and strutting away from the group of men towards his spot on the field.  

“Listen up Easy Company! The man on the far side of the field will make the starting move, last man standing wins!” Lieutenant Sobel’s whistle rang through the air as Lily centred her weight and dug deep deep down within herself to find an ounce of self control to not smash his face in. Defence, defence, Now wasn’t the time to be putting anyone in the medical bay.

“Afraid of messing up your hair sweetheart?” His childish voice rang in her ears as he stood on the far side of the field rolling his sleeves up. 

“You’d have to make contact with me to be able to do that, Liebgott.” She smiled back at him with a shit eating grin, spitting his name as if it were a slur.

“Yeah?” He said, slowly squaring up towards her. He was a good head and shoulders taller than her, and he was using every ounce of his stature to try to intimidate her. It was pretty easy to pinpoint exactly how Liebgott managed to get under her skin so easily, he was impulsive, rude, he knew how to push all her buttons, but mostly it was that he seemed to wake up every day with the innate desire to do anything, say anything to tick her off. It was killing her to find an ounce of strength not to retaliate. She had learnt the hard way that it mostly makes situations worse.

The duo stood steadfast, each not willing to back down from their ridiculous stare off, completely oblivious to the approaching footsteps of the Lieutenant Winters as he made his way over towards them. 

“Do we have a problem here?” His deep voice broke their trance, his eyes shifting between the pair. 

Liebgott’s head swung from between the Winters and the girl, “Afraid of getting her hands dirty I’d say, Sir.”

Winters let out a huff of aggravation, “Private Darlington, do you have a problem sparring with Private Liebgott?” His face displayed a look of curiosity as he peered down at the girl. “From what I’ve seen I’d say quite the opposite. Perhaps you can teach Private Liebgott here a thing or two.” He said with a wink. 

“Yes Sir” Lily happily replied, a hint of a smile edging on her lips, I’d happy slap the shit out of him, Sir. 

Lieutenant Winters smiled as he backed away, he couldn’t help but admit that he did hold a slight interest in watching her take down the loudmouthed Liebgott. He’d been an onlooker a few of their interactions, and whilst he wouldn’t feel inclined to step in between them; he knew that they needed to learn how to live amongst each other, and sometimes that required an ego takedown, he was comforted in the knowledge that his meddling would only produce what Liebgott had been fuelling with his behaviour.

Lily didn’t know the last time she had free rein to pummel someone, and she adored it. A rush of adrenaline overcame her as she waited, her weight spread, knees slightly bent. Joseph Liebgott you are so bloody predictable. During the drills prior shed had time to observe almost every man, assessing their strengths and taking note of their weaknesses. Liebgott was a classic, he favoured his left leg for balance, he always threw his first punch with his right arm. He was always telling the other men about fights he had gotten into back home, he was experienced, but impulsive. His aim was always to throw as many punches as he could before his opponent got a look in. Always so quick to attack that he never assessed the situation, his anger and his ‘better than thou’ attitude clouded his judgment. 

Lily dug her foot further into the dirt for leverage as she looked across at her partner, taunting her with a confident smirk and accompanying wink. Her eyes didn’t move from his as she waited for him to make the first move, she remained still, waiting on each footstep as he moved closer towards her. 

She barely had a second to breathe before Liebgott launched himself at her, throwing a punch that narrowly missed her eye. She ducked to dodge its trajectory, having to stop herself from sinking her fist into his crown jewels as she came back up, although she’d be lying if watching Liebgott rolling around on the ground like a worm cradling his crotch wouldn’t amuse her. 

Her weeks of silence in the evenings had been beneficial, it seemed Liebgott’s favourite pastime to recount the street brawl fights he’d gotten himself wrapped up in back home in California. She needed to prepare for a dirty fight. He retreated for a short moment before he lunged at her again, his movements brash and wild, he aimed for her blind spots, however, Lily anticipated it this time, and blocked and you countered, clipping his ankle as he came past, his impulsiveness made for a simple fight, however she kept her fists tight to her body, defence Lily, she reminded herself, scraping every ounce of self control she had left.

Winter’s attention was pulled from the scene as Nixon and Spiers made they way over the field to where he stood. 

“Battle to the death?.” Spiers said as he looked out onto the scene before them. 

Nixon stood between them, his arms tightly folded watching the ebb and flow of the drill intensify, his brow knitted tightly. “She’s reading him like a book.” He said, with more concern than he intended.

Thwack! 

She blocked his expected right hook, and countered with an elbow to his face, it wasn’t hard enough to break anything, but just about enough to knock his balance off. Swinging around she met his eyes as he recoiled back, his dark eyes glared at her, a mixture of shock and fury. This time Lily moved without hesitation, rushing forward she ducked down and grabbed Liebgott below the waist, using her entire body weight to throw him to the ground, the loud thunk of his head colliding with the mud drew inquisitive eyes from them other sparring pairs. A quiet murmur started to form amongst the onlookers who didn’t know wether to stop or watch what was going on. The force of the impact sent ringing through Liebgott’s ears, his eyes felt heavy in his head as if he was being pulled into the earth itself.

A quiet suppressed chuckle escaped from Spiers as Sobel shoved past the onlookers him yanked Liebgott back to his feet by his shirt collar.  “Easy Company is better than this Private, are you going to let a girl beat you?!” He bellowed into Liebgott’s ringing ears as he shoved him back into the fight. 

Liebgott stood for a few seconds catching his breath, before swinging his arm again and unleashing a series of rapid strikes. Lily moved and countered, her blocks almost poetic in their efficiency. 

Sobel’s voice called out once more, “Private Liebgott this isn’t a street fight, you are to take down your opponent!” His cowl voice broke Lily’s concentration, and in the split second she had stopped to turn her attention towards Sobel Joe had moved to throw a wild punch. Lily failed to block him as his fist collided with the side of her face. He was overjoyed, a slinky grin crept onto his face as his eyes scanned the red mark quickly rising across her left cheek. 

A few men down, Luz and Randleman had paused mid takedown as they saw Liebgott’s fist meet Lily’s face, they anxiously watched, unaware how they each still had their fists curled into each others uniform. 

Lily swallowed hard as she re-entered herself, she was prepared for a few bruises, she had settled on a few bruises, a few stumbles and she’d fall, faking defeat. She’d be able to sit the rest out and no one would remotely pay any attention to her, she had had her fun with him. That was until Liebgott decided to open his mouth and drain every inch of her self control.

“Gonna cry Red? I’ve seen you cry in your sleep, ain’t gonna be nothing new, you just can’t hack it.” He scoffed in her direction as she wiped a loose tendril of sweat covered hair out of her eyes.

His words seared into her skin and a switch flipped inside of her. She let him move first, her eyes shooting daggers into his. She watched as he moved slowly towards her, before shifting his weight and throwing a punch that she dogged with ease, he was playing into her hands. Then, with a sudden sprint Lily moved towards Liebgott.

Crunch!

With a sudden jab to the face Liebgott stumbled backwards, his nose bloodied and his fists tightened. He moved to wipe the blood away, however Lily didn’t give him a moment’s rest. 

“What in the Sam Hell…” Escaped from Randleman’s mouth as he stood, still connected to Luz, his breath caught in his throat as he watched the tiny girl, his eyes wide with shock.

With Liebgott’s hands up to his face, he left himself open, and Lily rushed forwards again. She explored his opening and with a shark kick has landed a blow to his ribs, a jarring move that stole the air from his lungs. Liebgott doubled over as the onlookers winced, barely sparring themselves anymore, too interested in the action. 

“She’s got bite, I’ll give her that.” Spiers spoke

“You can thank the SOE for that.” Nixon replied, his eyes completely fixated on the girl.

Liebgott, with more fury in his eyes than before attempted a desperate counter attack, Lily, however, moved in with ruthlessness, blocking each strike, and retaliating with a relentless barrage. Her fist collided with the Californian’s nose for the second time, forcing Liebgott to stagger backward as he let out a gasp of pain. As the confrontation reached its climax, Lily delivered a final, devastating series of blows, landing a final kick to his abdomen, followed by an elbow to the face in order to distract him, seizing the opportunity she grabbed him by the arm and flipped him over her shoulder. The onlookers shuddered as a sickening crunch sounded when Liebgott hit the ground, his shoulder dislocating the impact. Lily stood over him, her hands on her thighs as she panted, catching her breath as he lay there, defeated, bloody, and breathless. 

“Jesus Christ” Nixon breathed out as stood with the other Officers, their faces a mixture of curiosity and shock. He was finding it difficult to put into words what he had just seen, who was this Lily?

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