Nineteen-year-old Judith Sanders, a talented photographer, is sent to the front lines to capture the unfiltered reality of war.
Assigned to Easy Company, Judith follows them through Toccoa and into the horrors of war in Europe.
As time goes on, Ju...
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Chapter 4:
In the dim light of the morning, Judith stood before the mirror in her room, letting her fingers wander over the rough fabric of the uniform she had just put on. It was still new — and Judith felt as if she were slipping into a foreign skin, a role that felt unfamiliar and not like herself. Her movements were hesitant, almost uncertain, as if she were questioning whether she could really fit into it — not just the uniform, but this entire world.
The olive-green jacket was just a tiny bit tighter than she'd expected, and the sleeves were a bit too long, so she had to keep pushing the fabric back. Her pants were neatly tucked into the heavy boots, which squeaked softly whenever she moved.
Her camera lay still on the small table next to her bed. It was the only thing that felt familiar in this strange world. She picked it up, carefully checked the lens and weight, then slung the strap around her neck. She had put in a new film last evening, having already used up the 36 pictures she could take per film.
The camera was more than just a tool — it was her way of understanding the world. She ran her hand over the cold metal frame one last time, then left the room.
Outside the camp, a cool, fresh breeze hung in the air. It smelled of damp grass and the sharp, metallic scent of gun oil and machines being serviced in the distance. The sun slowly crept over the horizon, painting pale colors across the sky and casting the camp in a dull light. Judith took a deep breath and headed toward the mess hall.
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"Hey, Sanders!" The familiar voice made her turn, and there stood Don Malarkey, as always with a broad grin that reached his eyes. Beside him another soldier she had never seen before, but he, too, seemed open and friendly.
Malarkey waved at her cheerfully, as if she had long been part of the group.
"Looks like you're one of us now, huh?" Malarkey said with a grin, nodding at her uniform.
Judith smiled and shrugged. "Still feels a bit strange."
Malarkey chuckled softly and gave her a light slap on the shoulder. "You'll get used to it, trust me. Ah, this here is Skip, by the way," he added, nodding toward the young man next to him. "Warren Muck, but everyone calls him Skip."
Skip extended his hand to her, a friendly smile on his face. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise," Judith replied, shaking his hand. His grip was firm but not overbearing.
"We're heading to breakfast. Come with us — it's always better when you're not sitting alone," Malarkey suggested, motioning toward the mess hall. "Besides, the quicker the others get used to you, the better, right?"
