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

Operation Pegasus

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for your amazing feedback :) Sorry that this chapter isn't all that long...next one will be longer again. I hope you like it

They lost Captain Winters. After Major Horton had been killed, he'd been moved up to battalion as Strayer's XO. Easy was sorry to see him go, because each and everyone in the company loved and revered him. He was a good leader and a great man. He had looked out for them from day one and he had never let them down.

After a string of COs that ranged from useless to downright awful, Lieutenant Moose Heyliger took over Easy Company.

He was a Toccoa man and well-liked. Unlike some of the other commanders that had come and gone, he cared about the guys and didn't have a problem with getting his hands dirty. He made a point to learn their names and gave the NCOs and officers a lot of freedom in choosing who they assigned to which task.

The company was in battle almost every day. They basically lived in foxholes, most of the manoeuvring was done at night. Each day, the number of casualties rose. The medics had their hands full and were stretched out even thinner than the guys holding the ever-lengthening line.

They ducked and weaved between flying bullets and whistling mortar shells, running from patient to patient. They manned the aid station, oversaw evacs, rotated through the platoons, checked on the men after each fight, made sure they ate and slept.

Most of the time, they forgot about themselves in the process and had to be reminded by their fellow medics. Though in that aspect, the medics agreed unanimously that Gene and Ella were the worst.

Plus, not being allowed to carry a rifle made them feel vulnerable and the issue of the blocked road, which meant no supplies, made them feel powerless. In short, they were in desperate need for a break, just like the rest of the soldiers.

***

The dreadful weather – it was either drizzling, raining or muggy like in the jungle – didn't help matters either. Being stuck in foxholes with the temperatures steadily growing colder, sickness was bound to strike. But nobody complained. They tried to keep their spirits up and hold on to their sanity.

Ella often walked the line and stopped at each foxhole, simply to reassure the guys that they were not alone. She didn't even need to say anything. The smile she gave her friends and comrades was enough to push fear, cold and dread back for a moment.
Technically, the brunette wasn't responsible for morale, but in her eyes, the health of the mind and heart were just as important as the health of the body.

At night, when they weren't on manoeuvres to push the Germans back, they often started singing. Somebody would kick off a song and soon, the whole line would join in. No matter how many times they sang the same tune, it always lightened the mood and eased the tension a bit, if only for a short time.

It had been Ella who had inadvertently started the habit. Humming to herself to keep the boredom, anxiety and demons at bay, she had picked a tune her foxhole buddy and neighbours had known. They had begun belting out the lyrics with such gusto that everyone up and down the line had first laughed, then sung along.

***

October 14th had begun as a bad day. By evening, it had turned into one of those days that one just wanted to be over.

Ella had been at the aid station since before dawn, patching up walking wounded, discharging some, arranging and finalising evacuation for others. She looked after the patients that had come in with dysentery, gangrene or hepatitis. The smell and sight of diarrhoea, vomit and pus had effectively killed any residual appetite she might have had.