A Soldier of No Importance [ Band of Brothers ] 1

TWENTY EIGHT

April 1943

Camp Mackall, North Carolina, USA

Alice decided in that moment that if she ever had the chance, she'd punch Sobel in the mouth once for Easy Company and twice more for herself. Then she'd put gallons of starch in his undergarments. After that, she had options. She considered a knife in his back, or a bullet in his temple, or a grenade in his shorts.

She had plenty of time to decide on the method of execution as she lay in the middle of the forest surrounding Camp Mackall, bugs scurrying under her body and twigs digging into her hair. Blue skies mocked her through the trees. Somewhere to her left, Christenson also lay on the leaf litter, and to her right, Perconte. Somehow when Sobel messed up a maneuver, it ended with her and a few other members of Easy lying pretend dead in a ditch.

"Hey Pat?" She stayed on her back, watching the new growth on the trees flutter in the wind. "Pat."

"What?"

"Over under on how many times Guarnere's going to plan Sobel's murder tonight."

There was a pause. She heard a small shuffle to her left. She could practically hear Christenson thinking.

"Six."

"Are you taking over or under?"

"You choose."

Alice hummed. She considered it. In the end she looked his way. A few leaves brushed against her cheeks and she grimaced. "I'll take under."

They fell into silence again. The only noises around them were birds and tree rustles. Her mind wandered back to the topic of Sobel's ineptitude. For the past month, the paratroopers of Easy had been working on much more intense training. The men had received their specific jobs. Lieb had been given a machine gun. Luz was made a radioman. Malarkey, Muck, and Penkala had been grouped as a mortar team. With each passing day, the men trained harder and harder.

Her place had been solidified more as well. Alice spent a lot of her time when not in maneuvers helping train specific groups of soldiers in both French and German. She didn't help only Easy, but the whole 506th regiment. Her talents also lent themselves to aiding the members of regimental and battalion intelligence. They'd call her in once and awhile for opinions on war news related to her countries of origin.

But on most days, she found herself next to Captain Sobel, out in some training course. And inevitably it ended with her, dead, in a pile of similarly dead leaves and sticks. 

"Hey Frank."

"What?"

"Over under how many times George mocks Sobel tonight?"

"You serious?"

"Pick a number."

Silence reigned. Alice waited for him to respond. Part of her was hoping he'd say something like five, and she'd take the under. But Frank was good at these.

"Three, and I take over."

Alice groaned. That was a good guess. "Fine, I'll take under."

Another ten minutes passed. Her helmet had started to cause neck pain. Alice wanted nothing more than to get up and leave, but she knew it wasn't an option. Finally after almost forty five minutes of lying on the hard ground in Camp Mackall, footsteps crashed through the undergrowth. The sun had started to set.

"Right, get up." Sergeant Evans, ever the personal pet of Captain Sobel, walked up to them. "Lieutenant Klein, you're wanted by Lieutenant Winters. You other two are dismissed for the day."