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

Learning how to live again

Unsurprisingly, nobody confessed to tossing the paint bomb. Mr Graham addressed the students a day later, expressing his disappointment and warning them that another such cowardly and frankly quite dangerous prank would have serious consequences, like cancelling the eagerly anticipated Winter Ball in mid-January.

Ella knew that the bomb had been aimed at her and she knew just as well that the headmaster's threat wouldn't be enough to deter somebody who was dead-set on making her life miserable. But she wasn't worried, not for herself. She had made it through the most brutal artillery barrages in the Battle of the Bulge, a meagre paint bomb wasn't enough to scare her.

No, it was her friends, Gail and Tim, that she was worried about. Gail was already the target of the school bullies because of her curves and Tim's panic attack would certainly attract a slew of malevolent taunts and jibes. Sure, he was a soldier and no stranger to peer pressure and mockery, but she didn't want him to be pulled into this just because he was a friend of hers.

So far, Wesley Dale hadn't done her much harm, mostly because Ella dodged all his attempts at tripping or shoving her. Usually, he was more hands-on in his bullying, as Gail could confirm. He had no qualms using the muscle and strength he possessed from being a football player for intimidation.

"Maybe he doesn't do it to you because he knows you were in the Army", she guessed one day when they had walked home.

"No", Ella replied, scratching at her eye. "He's waiting to catch me off guard. And then, he'll try and use his brawn and size to his advantage."

Gail frowned. "Sounds like you have experience with that."

Her expression shuttered closed and she smiled sadly. "More than enough."

***

Wesley was indeed certain that once the young girl dropped her guard, showing her who was in charge would be child's play. She was almost a foot smaller than him and probably didn't even weigh 100 pounds.

Plus, she surely had no idea how to defend herself against somebody as tall and strong as him. Army or not, she must have been holed up in some hospital for the entirety of her service because if she had been in combat, she wouldn't have made it far.

The brunette didn't care what he thought of her. She was busy with school and her volunteer job at the hospital, where she learned something new every day. She got on well with the nurses and orderlies and Dr Weir had taken her under his wing, further fostering her talent. But although her co-workers were all friendly, Ella particularly loved working with her mother.

The two Sawyer women were often rostered on together and their teamwork was extraordinary in the sense that they could practically read each other's mind. They worked together like a well-oiled machine, effortlessly moving around each other, anticipating the other's needs and easily following the other's lead.

On top of that, they perfectly complemented each other: Isabel had more medical knowledge and experience working at a hospital in a big city like Columbus. Ella, used to extreme pressure and tough conditions, contributed with her skills at improvising and thinking outside the box.

***

Plus, the small medic had more important things on her mind than Wesley. With winter in full swing, she frequently caught her thoughts straying into dangerous territory. Memories rose inside her, of Bastogne, the Battle of the Bulge and Haguenau. The demons of war became louder and stronger, pangs of terror, guilt and heartache lancing through her chest while snippets of those nightmarish days flashed in front of her eyes.