Women of War - A Band of Brothers Story

Complaints and Musings

A/N: Hello my dear readers and welcome back to another chapter of this story :) Finally a slightly longer chapter again! I wish I could promise that from now on, they'll all be this long, but ... well, I'll do my best.

As always, thank you all so so much for reading, fav'ing and leaving comments. It is always exciting to read your thoughts and opinions, so keep 'em coming!

I'm still writing ahead and gosh, I am so not prepared for episode seven! It's already tough enough to write scenes for this episode – The Breaking Point is going to be brutal. I'll probably end up making myself cry... If you have any suggestions as to what should happen in this already gut-wrenching episode, feel free to let me know ;)

Maxine walked between the foxholes, shooting the breeze with her friends, doing what she could to keep their spirits up. Her former squad greeted her with slaps on the back. Guarnere grinned at her and filled her in on the latest gossip. She returned the favour, telling him all about the rumblings and rumours that were flying around officer circles.

She checked on the NCOs and told Christenson that she was taking his next shift out on the OP.

"But-"

"No buts, Pat", the Washingtonian insisted. "You're ill, this is the least I can do."

McClung tilted his head and shot his former sergeant an arch smirk. "Did you find out where the CO disappears to all the time?"

She gave him a look of disapproval, which soon changed to resignation. "Look, I know you don't like Lt Dike", she began, "and I understand why. But we have to make do with what we've got, so please...don't let me down?"

They promised. They trusted Maxine, knew she did everything in her power to look out for them, that she was always ready to go to bat for them. She was one of them, a Toccoa girl through and through, loyal and dependable come hell or high water.

Nodding, the lieutenant smiled. "Thanks, guys. Keep warm, okay?"

"You too, Max", Christenson returned, coughing into his sleeve. She made a mental note to get more blankets. And she ought to see if Frances' idea of turning a canteen into a heater had been successful.

***

Spina brought back a paltry little bundle of supplies and a story about Babe falling into a Kraut's foxhole.

Catherine rolled her eyes and raised her gaze towards the grey sky, groaning out a despairing "Could you at least try not to die?"

Gene, listening to the rowdy trio of Malarkey, Muck and Penkala, along with Julian and Babe, laughing about it, smiled around his cigarette. Hinkel was the word of the day and the countless jokes made at the man's expense were admittedly quite funny.

Meanwhile, Mia was trekking through ankle-deep snow, jaw clenched to stop her teeth from chattering. The swath of jackets and scarves in her arms failed to infuse even the tiniest shred of warmth into her cold-stiff fingers.

One by one, she distributed the clothing among those who needed them most – which admittedly were all of them, but by an unspoken agreement, the ones that were already coughing and running a temperature had priority.

Sneaking from foxhole to foxhole, she was met with smiles and appreciating murmurs. Lifting the tarp of another hole to peer inside, she carefully slipped in next to More.

"Hey Doc." Smokey looked up from the odd little contraption that Mia recognised as his helmet on a camp cooker. Steam rose from inside the helmet. "Coffee?"