Women of War - A Band of Brothers Story

S.S. Samaria (Pt. II)

A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you so much for your great responses to the last chapter, I'm so happy that you liked it.

Warning: This chapter deals with attempted sexual assault (nothing graphic) and a fight, so if this upsets you or is a sensitive topic for you, please please proceed with caution.

The three women left the latrines in good spirits and turned to make their way back down into the belly of the ship, into their stuffy, claustrophobic quarters.

They didn't get too far. Just as they wanted to turn a corner, they found their way blocked. The soldier wasn't anyone they knew and judging by the strange curl of his lips, all three of them were inclined to keep it that way.

"Well...", the corporal drawled, pushing off the wall and flicking his eyes over them. "Whaddaya say to that, Rawlins?"

Another unfamiliar soldier, apparently Cpl Rawlins, came to stand beside his comrade.

Theresa narrowed her eyes. Catherine tensed. Mia backed up a half-step.

"Huh", Rawlins made, his mildly impressed expression just as disconcerting as the weird gleam in the other man's eyes. "Not bad, Steele", he said with a slow nod. "Not bad at all."

Catherine rolled her eyes and ordered: "Let us pass", pretending not to notice the other two men that were now standing behind them. Mia had turned to keep an eye on them.

Steele's lips parted into a grimace that was more leer than smile. "Nah", he said with a lazy shake of his head. "Where'd the fun in that be?"

Theresa let out a squeak of shock when she was suddenly grabbed from behind. She heard Mia gasp followed by a thump that sounded like a body being shoved into the wall.

"Hey!", Catherine called, outrage and frustration covering a vague note of fear.

Struggling against the hands trapping her, Theresa saw her friends in much the same situation as her: Pinned against the wall by one of Steele's accomplices, their expressions a very specific blend of angry and scared.

Disgust twisted in her stomach as the hands began to roam across her body. "What do you think you're doing?!", she heard herself demand.

She didn't catch the reply – if there even was one – because the paralysing feeling of horror that had her heart pulsing in her throat turned into undiluted revulsion as the man groped her breasts.

All the lessons of unarmed combat she'd had rushed to the fore, instincts taking the reins and commanding her muscles to move. A loud thwack and a shrill yowl told her that her friends were fighting back as well.

***

What followed was sheer pandemonium. In the confines of a narrow hallway, fending off one 6-foot-tall soldier in battle-ready condition wasn't easy and fending off four of them made it all the more difficult. But that didn't stop the three women from fighting tooth and nail.

The regular sounds of a scuffle filled Catherine's ears, flesh hitting flesh, clothes rustling, boots stumbling, breaths panting. They were accentuated by grunts and groans, yelps and gasps.

She tried to keep an eye on the other two women, but it was nigh-impossible in the chaos. She only caught a glimpse of Theresa kicking her attacker in the shins before her attention was drawn back to her own predicament as Rawlins came at her, features contorted into a vicious snarl.

"Oi! Get the fuck out of here, you bastards!", a very familiar voice shouted over the din, just as Mia got slammed into the wall for the fourth time. Or was it the fifth? She had lost track. She ducked as another fist came swinging towards her.