A Soldier of No Importance [ Band of Brothers ] 1

THREE

After taking a weapon for training, Alice went to check out the grounds. It became natural to block out the shouts around her. The jeers faded into the background. Before long she'd found a long field with training dummies. Settling herself on the ground, she cocked her rifle.

Deep breaths. Alice let her hand settle on the trigger. She looked down the sights. With a tiny smile, she imagined the dummy with a swastika on its head and an SS badge over the heart. All her anger focused on that one training dummy. She pulled the trigger. The air cracked from the bullet.

Alice barely registered the knock back. The bullet had gone straight through the head. She readied her next shot. Three inches down, straight through the neck. The air cracked. The rifle kicked back.

The bullet hole sat three inches down, straight through the neck. Alice smiled. Five inches down, left chest, over the heart. Again, the bullet rang out and again it hit her imaginary target.

Suddenly a shot rang out from her right. She whipped her head sideways. A few men had settled down with their own rifles. Another smile spread across her face. At least she motivated them. Not exactly how she intended to, but it motivated them nonetheless. Alice pushed herself to her feet and moved away to watch. She hummed to herself happily. Placing the gun back into the storage area and emptying the ammo, Alice tried to slip away as best she could.

"What are you laughing about?"

Alice turned to find Nixon sitting on a crate eating a green apple. Dick Winters sat next to him, gaze raised from his book. They both looked at her in amusement.

"It seems all I have to do to motivate your men to practice is to do something first." She couldn't stop her smile. Alice meandered over and watched the men across at the training field. "It is too bad I can't afford them hating me forever."

"They don't hate you," Winters argued. "They just..."

With a laugh, she shook her head. "You misunderstand me. I don't mind. I know anger is a powerful motivational tool. I just hope that by the time we go back to France that they feel they can trust me."

"Yeah, well. They'll warm up to you. Give them a chance."

She hummed in agreement at Nixon's words. Then she smiled again, looking up at the clear sky. She closed her eyes. Despite the unnatural heat of Georgia, she liked it. "It is nice to be in a country without Nazis or the threat of Luftwaffe. Perhaps someday Hamburg will be free from them again."

"What've you done in America so far?"

Alice opened her eyes and turned to Nixon. "Not much. I arrived in New York City yesterday afternoon, boarded the train south, and got here a little over an hour ago."

Winters smiled, but Nixon looked at her incredulously. "That's it?"

"Yes. To be quite frank, I have found most Americans... frustrating. I wasn't exactly looking for company. Though that one, George Luz, insisted on talking to me on the train down here."

"Well, today's Friday."

"Yes."

"We all have tonight and the weekend off while the brass finish assigning people. There's the PX on base, or Atlanta about an hour from here." He paused. "How old-"

"Nix."

But Alice just chuckled. "Twenty-one. Which I believe is how old one must be in America to drink, no?"

"You could come with us." At the objection that Dick was about to raise, Nixon amended his statement. "Or, go with the enlisted, if Dick here refuses to go to the bar."