Pitschen ma en gamba - Small, but powerful [A Band of Brothers Story]

Carentan

Four days later, they were lying in the ditches along the road into Carentan, waiting for Winters to call high noon.

Ella was gnawing on her bottom lip.

A dog barked in the distance.

Birds sang. Crickets chirped.

Something, maybe a sign or a lamp, swayed in the light breeze and made a high-pitched, squeaking noise that grated on her nerves.

"Go!", Winters hissed.

"Let's go, First, let's go!", Welsh whispered, spurring them into motion.

Winters moved down the line, motioning for them to get up.

The first men weren't even halfway down the road when a shout cut through the air: "FEUER!"

Instinctively, Ella ducked lower as bullets started flying. Machine guns rattled as the Germans defended their position.

"Get those MGs moving, will ya!?", Major Strayer shouted, "Let's get them outta there!"

Nixon screamed: "They're in the open, for Pete's sake!"

She couldn't discern if that was directed at the Major or at Winters.

Winters was racing up and down between the men, yelling at them to get moving. "Move out! Move out! Get yourselves out of that ditch! You got no cover here!"

Ella had to get closer or she wouldn't be able to hear the call for a medic when it came. A line of bullets riddled the road and kicked up dirt far too close for comfort. She dove for cover, slamming against the wall on Welsh's right side. She barely had time to catch her breath.

"Medic!"

Off she went.

***

Running and ducking at the same time made for an extremely awkward way of moving, but it beat getting shot anytime. Ella slid to a stop next to her first patient, grateful for her kneepads.

Yanking out sulfa and a bandage, she poured the powder onto the gunshot wound in the man's shoulder, wrapped the bandage around it and patted him on the unharmed shoulder. "You'll be okay", she wanted to say. The next cry for a medic cut her off.

Being a combat medic was about the most insane thing you could do. You were zipping around on a battle field, under fire, and trying to patch guys up without getting riddled with bullets or blown up by artillery and grenades. It was absurd really. Nothing would protect you from a stray – or a purposefully aimed – bullet, nothing would stop a shell from blasting you to tiny pieces.

Yet, Ella didn't think twice about it. She dashed through the rubble-filled streets and responded as quickly as she could to each call.

More than once did she throw herself over her patients, shielding them from flying debris with her body. And more than once was she too late and the man was already gone by the time she arrived.

Lipton's scream made her heart skip a beat. "They got us zeroed! Spread it out! Spread it out!"

Explosions showered the girl in rubble as she dragged a downed man to relative safety. "Help me!", she shouted to Tab. He grabbed the other side of the man's webbing and they hauled him behind a wall, artillery exploding all around.

"Medic!"

Tab's hand jerked like he wanted to hold her back, but Ella had already burst out into the open again, dodging mortar blasts as she ran across the street. She huddled down against the wall of a house and fished another bandage from her bag. The man wasn't seriously injured and could get himself to the aid station.