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

Poetry and new orders

A/N: Hi guys :) Thank you for your wonderfully positive responses to this story. I am so happy you like it.

Celebrating the return of some of the wounded was always a merry affair. Talbert and Smokey had come back from the hospital a few days ago, giving the men a perfect excuse for a celebration. They donned their dress greens and had dinner at the mess hall, the food actually identifiable once.

Ella had arrived fairly early, sitting down at a table with Luz and Skip who were engaged in an animated debate over the latest comic books.

"C'mon Shorty, help us out here", Skip said, "Superman is better than Batman."

"No way, Superman is boring, he is basically all-powerful, it's just no fun", Luz immediately protested.

Ella laughed. "I'm afraid I don't know much about superheroes, guys", she apologised.

Which was probably the wrong thing to say, because the two immediately launched into an incredibly detailed description of various comic book heroes, their powers and their weaknesses. Skip, of course, advocating for Superman; Luz praising Batman.

It continued even as the tables filled up, Bill playfully bumping into her as he jauntily slid into the seat next to her. Ella gave a small yelp when he nearly shunted her off the bench, earning her a round of laughter from the guys.

During dinner, Luz and Skip somehow roped the entire table into their argument. Unfortunately, each of the guys had their own favourite superhero, making it even more impossible to reach an agreement.

"Seriously, Shorty, you gotta know some of those", Perconte stated from her left. She sighed and scratched her forehead, just along the scar running through her eyebrow.

"I heard of some of 'em", she admitted, "only comics I ever got to read were Disney comics, though. You know, Mickey Mouse, Tarzan and the likes." A light blush blossomed on her cheeks. "But Nico loved Green Lantern", she added.

"Oh, he got good taste, your brother!", Skip approved. The rest of the table nodded in agreement, each wearing the serious expression of a connoisseur.

"So, what's your favourite then?", Luz questioned.

Her blush deepened. "Donald Duck. It's funny how he likes to annoy people, but gets all riled up when the tables turn."

"So, kinda like Perconte", Johnny snarked, making the whole table – including Frank – laugh.

***

Stomach filled, Ella sat back to listen to Smokey's poem which he had created during his stay at the hospital. "The Night of the Bayonet", he announced the title. She snickered, knowing full well what it would be about.

"The night was filled with dark and cold, when Sgt Talbert, the story's told,

pulled on his poncho and headed out, to check the lines, dressed like a Kraut.

Upon a trooper our hero came, fast asleep, he called his name:

Smith, oh Smith, get up! It's time, to take your turn out on the line."

Ella laughed along with everybody else. Behind her, she heard the replacements wondering where the heck this was going.

"But Smith, so very weary, cracked an eye, all red and bleary.

Grabbed his rifle, he did not tarry, hearing Floyd, but seeing Jerry."

"Oh my God!", poor Smithy cried out, burying his face in his hands, as the men laughed.