All Things Nice » Band of Brothers

41: Left

To have made it through the night was a miracle. Sharing a foxhole with Guarnere was less than ideal and the pair of them spent the night bickering, but at least Posey was still on the line by the time sunrise rolled around. The same couldn't be said of Tab, who had been stabbed by Smith's bayonet when he was waking him to go on watch. They'd all been woken up by the noise of it when it had happened but they were assured Tab would live. The rest of the night, thankfully, was uneventful. Aside from Guarnere's snoring.

"My God do you snore like a freight train," Posey hissed in the morning, when the sunrise was too bright to allow her to sleep.

"I don't snore," Guarnere protested. "You fuckin' snore."

"You wouldn't know, because I didn't get a wink of sleep with your loud mouth going off beside me like a fucking air raid siren."

"Shut up, Wells. I dug the foxhole and I should get to sleep in it."

Posey mimicked him and laughed when he nudged her with his elbow. When she heard footsteps approaching she grabbed her rifle, expecting new orders now that she was in the company of a platoon sergeant.

"We're attacking at 0530, Bill," Compton said the moment he'd appeared crouched over the foxhole. "Make sure your platoon's ready."

"Will do, Buck," Guarnere replied, and with that, Compton was off again.

"I wonder how Tab's doing," Posey commented idly as she listened to his retreating footsteps.

"Ah, he'll be fine," Guarnere said, brushing her comment aside. "They'll send him back to England in no time. He'll be laid up in a hospital surrounded by nurses. Fuckin' wish Smith had poked me."

Posey laughed a little bit. "I wonder what it feels like to be stabbed."

Guarnere shrugged. "Probably feels like gettin' shot." He turned to her. "What's it feel like gettin' shot?"

Posey turned to face him with an innocent smile. "Wanna find out?"

"Fuck off, Wells," Guarnere replied, but there was none of his usual bite to his words. Posey smiled smugly to herself at what she counted as a victory.

She was left by herself a little while later when Guarnere had to leave to make sure the rest of the platoon were ready for the imminent battle. Posey sat in her foxhole wishing she had a watch so that she'd know how close they were to 0530, but the sound of increasing chatter revealed that they must be close. She wasn't sure whether she was ready to see combat again but at least she wouldn't have to run around and leap behind cover this time. All she had to do was stay put and shoot, which was what she was best at. She just had to remember her training.

"Up and at 'em, Wells, we're getting ready to go," Compton informed her as he passed by her hole. Posey glanced up and nodded, taking his proffered hand and getting out of the foxhole as carefully as possible. Once she was out, Compton moved onto the next hole and she faced the opposite hedgerow, wondering whether the Germans knew they were about to be attacked. She secured the strap of her rifle and calculated her windage and elevation, adjusting them accordingly before practising her aim; she was worried she'd be shaky now that she was wounded.

When Compton brushed back past her on his way down the line she offered him a smile, which he returned, before clicking off the safety on her gun. She shared a glance with Bull, on her left, and Toye, on her right, before focusing straight ahead, staring at the hedgerow she'd have to scale in order to shoot. She drew in a deep breath and waited for the order.

"Mortar!"

"Incoming!"

"Down, down, down, down, down!"