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 7 °
Summer 1942, Camp Toccoa, Georgia
The gravel crunched under the boots of Easy Company as they quickly marched along the wooden barracks. Judith had wisely left her expensive camera back in the barracks. At least this way, she wouldn't immediately become a target for Sobel's harassment.
She walked beside Malarkey, his arms swinging loosely as if this were just a stroll, not another drill by Sobel. Ahead of them, some soldiers from Dog Company were walking, loud with that arrogant grin Judith knew all too well.
One of them of course couldn't resist:
"Ah, Easy Company," he called out as he walked backward, "Hey, while you're running, don't worry, we'll take your dames to the movies for you."
"Yeah, good. They need some female company," shouted Liebgott, who was at the front, with an annoyed glance not slowing his pace.
"Hey Sanders!" called another, looking at Judith with a smug grin. "You know where to find me if you ever need some action!" His friends laughed loudly, and one of them whistled at her.
Judith gritted her teeth, feeling her face heat up. She shot the soldier an angry glare and muttered under her breath, more to herself than to him, "Like what? Playing with your dolls, little boy?"
Malarkey snorted, without turning his head. "That's the spirit," he grinned.
Then the guys in the front started running, and Judith picked up the pace. They ran right through the Dog Company soldiers, knocking their hats off as they passed.
Judith couldn't help but grin as Luz, running ahead of her, swiped the hat right off the head of the soldier who had made the comments.
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Sobel was expectingc them at the foot of Currahee. He jogged in place and held a stopwatch in his hand. As soon as the company came to a halt in front of him, it was time to go. In neat rows, they began jogging.
Sobel seemed to be everywhere. Sometimes at the front, other times shouting next to some poor soldier.
Judith was used to running, but even she soon had to wipe the sweat off her brow, her shirt soaked with sweat down her back.
Judith tried to match her breathing to the steady rhythm of her boots on the steep path.
Sobel's loud voice set the pace as they ran around the first curves of the forested mountain.
"Where do we run?"
"Curahee," came the loud answer from the whole company.
And for the next few minutes, the question-and-answer game continued:
