All Things Nice » Band of Brothers

55: Bluebirds

Posey didn't want to leave. Wandering the cobblestoned streets of Aldbourne in the pitch dark of the morning, she walked slowly at the back of the group and dragged her feet behind her. Her heart felt more than a little bit heavy, its jagged rhythm thumping its protests. "I don't want to go!" it cried in its unsteady beating, "Walk slower so I can stay!" But she couldn't leave her heart behind her, no matter how much it felt like it was shackled to the barracks she'd called home for so long.

As she climbed into the back of the truck that would be taking them to Membury, Posey made sure to savour the feeling of the cobbles beneath her boots, to lock the tentative singing of the birds in the quiet of the morning into her mind. After everything she'd done to get herself to England, she could hardly believe she was having to leave again, and perhaps permanently this time. That had been a possibility with D-Day too, of course, but there was more certainty in the air this time around. The air was charged with finality and it fell heavily upon each of them. Unknowing of the future even as they were, there was something about the stillness of the morning that whispered to them to remember it, to remember this and what it felt like to be safe. These would be the last moments of safety of some of their lives, and for others among them, the last moments of wholeness.

The trucks were quiet as they tracked along the roads. Replacements muttered to each other, nervous jitters making it impossible for them to keep quiet, but a resigned acceptance that they'd be reliving some of the worst days of their lives kept the veterans silent. Cigarettes were passed between them wordlessly and lighters handed to those that needed them. Beyond that, each was stuck inside their own head.

Posey's head, she'd be the first to admit, wasn't much a pleasant place to be at the present.

The airfield was buzzing with activity by the time they arrived. Posey hopped out of the truck unsteady on her feet and was kept upright by Bull, ever a stable presence behind her.

"Alright, Duckie?" he asked. Posey knew he wasn't only referring to her almost-trip.

"Yeah," she confirmed, nodding and hoping she sounded convincing. "You?"

"Doin' just fine," he agreed.

They weren't staying the night so there was no need to put up tents. Instead, they were to set about getting ready to jump immediately.

Everything about the preparation for this jump was different to D-Day, which filled Posey with the optimism she'd first possessed about the entire affair. For one, there would be no leg bags this time, so when she jumped she shouldn't land finding herself completely useless. For two, the nerves that had overwhelmed her when gearing up for D-Day were much more controllable now, though her heart did still hammer rapidly in her chest when Lip went around making sure the replacements had all written out their wills.

It was strange to think, but Posey had had her will written out since she was eighteen, just before they'd gotten to England. She hadn't thought it strange at the time but, really, she supposed it spoke to the tragedy of the state of the world right now that eighteen year olds were having to write out their wills.

Posey was attaching her scope mount to her rifle and debating with herself whether or not that was a good idea when George nudged her. Her head shot up at the disturbance and she saw what he was looking at before he even needed to open his mouth. "Hey, look who's back."

"Popeye!" she exclaimed, unable to help herself. She sprang to her feet and grinned as she watched him being driven over to them, stood on the back of a jeep. Her smile fell at the same time as her eyes did, landing on the man in the passenger seat. "Sobel." Now there was a man she'd hoped she'd never have to lay eyes on again.