All Things Nice » Band of Brothers

39: Talk

"Guarnere!" shouted Compton. Guarnere's head shot up and Posey let out an inaudible sigh of relief; Compton's timing had never been so spot on. "Get over here."

"Alright, Buck. I'm comin'," Guarnere replied. He shot a glance back down at Posey and huffed. "I'll fuckin' find out what you're hidin', Wells. Don't think I won't."

"Okay," she replied, and smiled smugly as she watched him leave. As soon as he was over with Compton she let herself sag back to the floor and breathe. She had just experienced combat for the first time, and been shot, and almost had her secret busted by Guarnere, of all people. What she needed to do was rest and let it all sink in, especially as she could already hear some of the other enlisted talking about a potential German counterattack. Whilst yesterday had been all monotony, today was turning out to be anything but.

After a while of lying on the ground and contemplating the events of the day, Posey forced herself to sit back up again. She stared down at her hands, covered in her own blood and sticky with it, too, before planting them to push herself to her feet. She groaned through gritted teeth through all of her many attempts to do so before finally making it standing. Following a hobbling man towards where she assumed the aid station had now been moved - somewhere more convenient now that the Germans had retreated - she made her way back into Carentan.

When she made it to the aid station, she found Roe tending to Winters' leg. Internally, she grimaced; if they had to go without Winters during this supposed counterattack they'd be doomed. Still, she hid those sentiments and offered a small smile and an inclined head. "Sir."

"Wells," Winters greeted back. "You get hit?"

"Uh -"

"Just shrapnel, like you," Roe cut in, addressing Winters. Eugene Roe really was an angel.

Posey nodded. "I'm good to stay on the line, sir. Roe's patched me up already." She turned her attention to the man in question. "I was just looking for some water to get the blood off my hands - what are the chances this place has running water?"

Even though she'd been speaking to Roe, Winters answered her through a low chuckle. "Slim to none, I'd say. Might be worth a try."

Posey nodded. "Right. I will. Thank you, sir."

Winters only nodded, his attention now back on where Roe was cleaning his wound. Posey took that as her cue to leave and headed towards where she thought she might find a tap. On her way she passed Blithe, a man from First she'd spoken to on occasion. He was sat by the door, his knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes vacant as they stared straight ahead of him.

Posey's step faltered. She watched him warily for a few moments before asking tentatively, "You okay, Blithe?" She kept her distance but tried to sound as reassuring as possible.

Blithe nodded but didn't move his eyes. "Yeah," he replied dazedly, almost dreamily - though perhaps that was just his soft southern drawl. "Yeah, I'm alright," he added after a considerable pause. Posey waited for him to elaborate but he never did.

After a few beats she spoke again. "Well, okay." She fiddled with her hands and then clasped them behind her back. "I'll see you later." Blithe didn't make to reply, or make any indication that he'd heard her at all, so she turned and continued her search for water.

As she scoured the building, she wondered whether Blithe might be suffering from shell shock. He didn't seem to have any physical injuries - certainly she hadn't seen any blood on him, and Roe had obviously known he was there, so he couldn't have been desperately in trouble regardless. But there was definitely something off about him; in training he'd always been a bit dreamy but never much more so than Posey was herself. Now, he looked to be in a different place entirely. He was away with the fairies, as her father had used to say. If that really was shell shock, she understood why her brother had been so harsh with his warnings about the horrors of war. She couldn't imagine anyone being able to function in combat in such a state.