Catch Her If You Can | Band of Brothers

XVIII. June 7th, 1944. Le Grand Chemin, Normandy. France.

June 7th, 1944. Le Grand Chemin, Normandy. France.

Georgia had barely slept. Every time she'd closed her eyes, she'd found herself back underwater, staring up at the C-47s flying overhead. Eventually, she had decided to go out alone on a midnight scouting mission so that she wouldn't have to do it later on. After verifying intelligence she'd received from another regiment of paratroopers, Georgia had returned to the small barn where she'd spent most of her day yesterday. She eventually pulled back the cloth covering the barn window ever so slightly - just enough that she could see the outside and recognize where she was.

That little sliver of light had eventually served as her alarm clock, rousing her from a terrible dream around five-thirty.

The only thing Georgia could recall from her dream was dark water and paracord around her wrists.

Georgia ran a hand through her hair. She was grateful she hadn't made too much noise. The other officers were just starting to stir, as they should be. After all, they were moving out to attack Vierville in less than an hour.

Looking out at the rising sun made her feel slightly better. Back when she'd been a child in Norfolk, sunrise had always been her favorite time of day. The world was quiet and ethereal and peaceful and full of possibilities and all the things the Fenley household never was.

But as always, the moment had to end.

Georgia took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

She had a job to do.

Her eyes snapped back open.

She pulled on her jump jacket and jump boots, then stood and stretched. Her neck still ached from the prop blast yesterday. Turning back to the straw-covered floor, Georgia put on her holster and .45, as well as her trench knife and scabbard. She tucked her compass into her pocket and set her binoculars around her neck. Lastly, she slung her carbine over her shoulder and went to find Colonel Sink.

He was outside, conferring with Hester. They were silhouetted against the lightening sky, standing in the mud and the blood of dead animals and dead men.

"Morning, Georgia," the colonel said.

"Morning, sir," she replied. "The intelligence for this attack is solid, I verified it myself."

"That's good," said Hester, "I'll go tell the company COs that we're proceeding as planned." With a nod to Georgia and a salute to Colonel Sink, Hester was off.

Sink nodded to her and turned back towards the regimental CP. Georgia leaned against a wooden fence and lit a cigarette. She'd pinched some from Dick a few days before the jump, as he had no use for them. As the smoke drifted upward, Georgia considered the day ahead of her. Solid intelligence and well-trained soldiers were as much as she could ask for. As the regiment gradually stirred to life, she stomped out her cigarette and walked off into the early morning sun to prepare herself.

After all, she had a village to help capture.

Easy Company took the lead on the march to Vierville, and they were in the thick of things when the shooting started. Bullets dinged and ricocheted off of anything and everything, and soon the air was filled with men and women screaming for medics. The air smelled bitter, and the din was deafening. Georgia eventually ran up next to the regimental level radio-op and barked instructions down to the battalion S-2s, who in turn relayed them to the company intelligence officers.

As the smoke cleared, Georgia walked down into the town beside Colonel Sink. From what she knew, the majority of the Normandy campaign was going to mirror this action. Hopping from town to town, killing Krauts, and relaying any significant intelligence they happened to come across to higher-ranking officers.