A Soldier of No Importance [ Band of Brothers ] 1

EIGHT

"You will not drink from these canteens. Is that clear, Easy Company!"

"Sir, yes sir."

Alice looked at Sobel. His eyes glared down at her specifically as they stood at attention. The sun was setting behind them, beautiful colors streaking the sky. But the menacing Lieutenant Sobel reared up before them.

For the first of many times, Easy Company would be running a twelve mile march at sundown in full gear. Her body ached just thinking about it. She'd been putting in extra work since day one to try to acclimate her body to the extra weight. Still, the prospect of carrying her gear on a twelve mile march with no water caused her physical pain.

The bruises on her arm and chest from Nixon earlier stung as she shifted from one foot to the other. She didn't miss the fact that Sobel wouldn't be joining them. Coward. Though she supposed it meant they didn't have to deal with him.

Dick had the three platoons fall out. They watched Sobel disappear and turned towards the track they'd be taking. Their feet began pounding the ground as they set off. Dick set a relatively easy pace.

The sky darkened. Boots hitting the hard ground echoed through the forest on the road they used. They marched in silence, each man focused on keeping their pace steady. After the second hour, the pain had set in. Alice could see it in the faces of the others despite the darkness. Coughs became more frequent, wheezes from the lack of water on their throats.

They grew restless, angry. She could see it. She could feel it in the way they slammed their feet into the ground. Not that she wasn't as furious with Sobel for his ridiculous training regiment. She looked over and saw George with a furious frown on his face. Even in the short time she'd seen him interact with the others, she knew he'd taken it upon himself to keep the atmosphere light for the sake of everyone. Happy soldiers meant less stupid decisions, which typically meant less punishments.

Marc had been like that. When Marc had died, and Robert had become consumed by his anger, she'd tried to emulate their dead brother's encouragement. Even as the anger filled her chest, she thought about the way Marc liked to sing to break the tension. His tenor voice rang through their flat, causing them all to laugh, especially Bernadette.

She calmed her breathing, getting herself back to a pace where she could sing without too much issue. The problem wasn't her breathing, it was the pain of the pack on her shoulders and neck, pulling her down. The third hour had come and gone. She remembered how the boys had been enamored by her French. With a deep breath, she started a soft melody that one of their contacts in Paris had found.

"Quand il me prend dans ses bras

Qu'il me parle tout bas

Je vois la vie en rose.

Il me dit des mots d'amour

Des mots de tous les jours

Et ça me fait quelque chose."

Her eyes stung involuntarily with tears for Marc, tears for Robert, tears for Bernadette, tears for France and Germany. The company had gone completely silent. As she continued, she stayed looking straight ahead from her position near the back of the group.

"Il est entré dans mon coeur

Une part de bonheur

Dont je connais la cause.

C'est lui pour moi,

Moi pour lui dans la vie

Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie."