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

A Really, Really Bad Day

A/N: Hi guys, how are you? I hope you're having a good day. As always, thank you so much for reading my story, voting on it and leaving comments. It really makes my day and I'm so happy that you enjoy my work.

Warning: This chapter deals with PTDS and flashbacks.

Wednesday, 19th December 1945 was one of those days that threw one curveball after the other. First, the small brunette narrowly avoided being run over by a car on her way to school.

Then, every single teacher decided to spring a pop quiz on them at the beginning of their class. That in itself wouldn't have been so bad, but her classmates bitched and moaned about it all day, grating on Ella's already fraught nerves.

And to top it all, Wesley Dale and Melissa McNamara had come to the conclusion that she needed to be taught a lesson.

History was the last period before recess and time seemed to have adopted the consistency of syrup. It crept by agonisingly slowly and about five minutes in, all the former ranking medic wanted to do was go home, curl up by stove and sleep. For a reason she didn't really know herself, this day was utterly exhausting.

Finishing her quiz about the end of World War 1, Ella gazed out the window, absent-mindedly twirling her pen in her fingers. It was snowing outside, thick flakes tumbling from the off-white sky. It was almost hypnotising and her thoughts began to wander.

***

Her eyes strayed into the distance, no longer seeing the cars on the road or the janitor crossing the school yard, but watching the images in her mind, the memories of a place far away.

Laughter, fog, a constantly biting, energy-sapping cold.

Joe rolling his eyes at her and griping about lost boots, getting pinged in the arm and First Battalion soldiers taking a dump in his foxhole.

Skip showboating for Webb, the replacement, narrating everybody's injuries.

Snippets of conversations, jokes, coffee.
"Nuts!"
Fear. Cold. Hunger.
"Find a foxhole!"
help Oh God
"You better not do anything stupid, Shorty"
pain incoming too much Boom "Three medics in one hole?"
snow red FEUER! Hinkel morphine please no why screams flash boots death hooch
snowball in a blizzard saline cough take cover "MEDIIIC!" blood so much blood-

"Time's up."

Ella flinched as she was jolted back into reality by Mrs Audrey's voice. Her fingers were clenched tightly around her pencil. She was shaking. Blood was rushing in her ears and her heart was racing, pounding against her ribcage.

Her head hurt, the pain radiating from the scar across her temple. Her breathing was off, the air struggling to bypass the lump in her throat. Her stomach was doing somersaults and twisting itself into knots at the same time.

Tüüf schnuufa. Es ish alles in Ordnig. I bi nüm döt.

Slowly, the panic ebbed. Her breathing slowed to a more acceptable rate, her body relaxing as her brain issued orders to stand down. There's no danger here, no fight, the young girl reassured herself.

When she got up to hand in her quiz, it took her an obscene amount of concentration to walk to the teacher's desk and back to her seat. Her legs felt like jelly and she was dizzy enough to briefly wonder if she had a concussion.

***

Needless to say, the brunette couldn't remember much of the lesson when the bell rung. She was too wrapped up in her thoughts. Distracted, she made her way to her locker, occasionally uttering a small response to Gail, who was excitedly telling her about her science project.