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

Reprieve

Ella woke late in the morning, lying in a warm bed with what felt like a ton of blankets piled on top of her. Winter sunrays faintly tickled her skin. Prying open crusted eyelids, the young girl realised she was back at the CP.

Wia bini do hera ko?, she wondered, freeing a hand to rub her eyes. Last thing I know... Frowning, she rummaged around in her memory, pulling one blank after another.

"Ellie."

She nearly jumped out of her skin and just barely swallowed an expletive. "Hesh n Vogel?! Gene, you scared the bejeebus out of me!"

"Sorry, chérie", he said, though judging by the smirk on his lips, he wasn't all that sorry. "How are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "I'd feel better if I knew how I got here", she admitted, shooting him a questioning look.

"You fell asleep at the OP", Gene told her. "You were hypothermic, Ellie. Babe and I brought you here. We managed to rouse you a little, but you were still pretty out of it, so I'm not surprised you don't remember. We helped you change into dry clothes and then let you sleep."

Her expression shifted. "Oh", she made sheepishly. Finally, the haze of sleep lifted, allowing her brain to return to full capacity. The events of last nights' patrol filtered back in, the by now far too familiar pang of grief hitting her.

Digging herself out of the heap of blankets, the ranking medic looked over to the other bed. It was empty.

"How is Lip?", she asked, suspecting that the First Sergeant had woken up and refused to stay put. Getting up, she let out a quiet groan as her muscles reminded her of all the shivering they had done last night in an effort to raise her body's temperature.

Gene smiled. "He's doing better. Still a bit groggy, but his lungs are a lot clearer."

She sighed in relief. "Thank God. I'm going to give him some more of Grandma Johanna's remedy to help him rest later today", she decided, sliding into her webbing and lacing up her boots.

"You should take some, too", her colleague suggested. "You were already sick before you decided to go for a swim in the middle of winter."

Ella chortled. "You're making it sound like I enjoyed it. Though, yes, you're probably right. But first, I gotta check on the boys."

Her Cajun friend patted her shoulder consolingly. "I wrote the casualty report on Jackson", he said. "All you have to do is sign it and bring it to Battalion."

She smiled gratefully. "Merci, Gene."

***

When Johnny Martin told her a few hours later that they were being sent on another patrol, Ella sighed heavily. "This is going to be a disaster", she stated flatly, looking at him.

Johnny blinked, surprised to hear his own thoughts out of the mouth of the small medic. "I know, Shorty", he admitted after a moment, slinging an arm over her shoulders.

She ran a hand through her hair, eyes glowing with dread and fever. They walked in silence for a while, ambling down the street.

"Captain Winters has a plan."

Johnny glanced over when his young friend spoke again. She met his eyes, trust and desperate hope shining on her features. "I hope so, too", he said, "cause I'm sick and tired of losing men."