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

Haguenau

Lipton was sick. He tried to hide it, of course, but the medics soon cottoned on. It didn't take long for Ella to diagnose him with pneumonia. The crackling of his lungs was a dead give-away. Stubborn as he was, he refused to go to the aid station.

Not that anybody would have expected anything different. She gave him penicillin, wrapped him in a blanket and kept a close eye on him. As they were bound for Haguenau, there wasn't much else she could do.

On the trucks, the girl used the chance to get some rest herself. She was still cold and miserable and she could feel the fever tugging at her, just waiting for a chance to sweep in and fully seize her in its clutches. Therefore, she wanted to conserve as much energy as possible.

Wedged between Liebgott and Babe, with a blanket tucked around her shivering frame, she managed to drop off into a light doze that sometimes deepened into actual sleep.

The men on the truck glanced at her from time to time, glad that their small friend was finally getting some sleep. The rings under her eyes had darkened with each night she had stayed up in the miserable forest, making rounds and doing her utmost to keep their spirits up.

Each of them had wondered at some point how Ella handled this huge responsibility, how she coped with all the stress. Those who were closest to her, however, had their suspicions that the brunette was worse off than she let on.

***

Ella woke when wet snow hit her face. Nose wrinkling in discomfort, she made a reluctant noise at the back of her throat and opened her eyes. "Verdammt, Petrus, mir wüssen au so dass Winter ish", she grumbled at the grey sky.

Babe, whose arm was slung around her shoulders to keep her warm and in her seat as the truck bounced over the seven hundredth pothole, looked down at her. "If you was talking to me, you gotta try again in English, Shorty", he said, a smirk on his face.

Rubbing her eyes, the brunette shook her head. "Nothing worth mentioning", she said, burying deeper into the blanket. If only she could stop shivering!

Another blanket appeared in front of her and got draped over her. She raised her head and smiled at Malarkey. "Thanks, Malark."

"Anytime, Shorty. Least we can do", he waved it off.

The ranking medic gave him another warm smile and closed her eyes again. He had such a huge weight resting on his shoulders. He had lost 5 of his best friends in Bastogne and now he had the added responsibility of being a Platoon Sergeant. He was struggling. His eyes, once bright and filled with laughter, had lost their light.

She tried to help him and she was slowly making inroads, but he desperately needed a break from the constant pain and death around them.

She had just slipped back into the comfortable place between sleep and waking when the truck jolted as it hit another pothole. The violent jerk nearly knocked her off the bench and into Liebgott.

"Sorry, Lieb", she apologised distractedly, burrowing deeper into the blanket.

He winked at her and wrapped his arm around her as well. "Ah, don't worry about it, kid." His smirk turned into a frown when he noticed the warmth radiating off her. Reaching up, he touched her forehead. His concern rose. "Shit, you're burning up, Shorty."

Ella sighed. "I know, I got a slight temperature, just like half the company."

McClung leant forward, worry etched into his features. "You're sick?", he asked.