A Soldier of No Importance [ Band of Brothers ] 1

TWENTY NINE

"About 13,000 dead in the massacre." Thirteen thousand. Alice couldn't even begin to fathom the size of that number. She had no frame of reference. But her blood boiled and her body trembled at the thought.

As her fourth glass of wine sat half finished before her, she couldn't concentrate. She'd been called into Intelligence that afternoon. They'd shown her some files that had been smuggled out of Poland, some papers in German they'd wanted her to translate. Not far from her in the room, Nixon and several others examined the transcript from the Bermuda Conference. Alice had listened intently.

Thirteen thousand dead. The entire Jewish population of the city of Warsaw had been eradicated after they'd revolted against the Nazis. Thirteen thousand dead. And yet, the British and the Americans still restricted aid to Europe's Jews. Platitudes of the necessity to win the war stood in the place of actual, meaningful help to the Jews as the Bermuda Conference had come to an end.

Her hand shook violently as she lifted her wine to her lips. The quiet club had very few patrons. Alice sat in the back, half leaning over her table, drowning herself in alcohol and cigarettes. Her second smoke had almost run out. The world spun every so often, the alcohol rushing through her system. 

Thirteen thousand Jews, dead. They'd died choking on acrid black smoke or burned alive, skin seared off where they stood. Some had gone down fighting. Others died screaming. Alice could almost hear the screams of the men, women, and children when she closed her eyes.

She lit a third cigarette, tossing the now dead second one to the ground. Her trembling hands flicked up the lighter. The small flame licked at the white cigarette. She paused. Thirteen thousand Jews, burned alive as Warsaw's ghettos had been razed.

The metal lighter clinked against the dark wood table as she dropped it. Sucking in the smoke, Alice willed her body to calm down. But her trembling didn't stop. She shot up from her seat, wobbling only for a moment. Alice fled the bar.

Her feet pounded across the grounds of Camp Mackall. Grass flattened under her boots. An ache had settled in her head. When she finally opened the door to her barracks, Alice went straight down the wooden aisle to her bunk.

"Hey, how was your afternoon without Sobel," Don asked her.

She didn't respond. Instead, Alice just dug around in her footlocker for her shower kit. Her head spun. Thirteen thousand dead. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on her dress uniform. It took effort to strip down just to her undershirt.

"Have fun?" added Gene, turning to her from his lower bunk.

"It was brilliant," she snapped back. Alice slammed the footlocker top closed. Her hand went to her temple as the noise echoed. "Brilliant."

Without sparing any of the men another glance, she stalked back down the aisle and out the door. When it slammed shut behind her, she paused. She considered going back in and asking for someone to stand watch while she showered. But she didn't have the energy.

When she got to the D, E, and F Company enlisted showers, Talbert and Sisk were just leaving. She huffed. "One of you make sure no one walks in on me." She didn't even wait for them to respond before walking inside the empty stalls.

She turned the water on and stripped. It fell cold all over her skin. The chill brought relief, a shock to her system. For a few minutes she stood silent, face under the stream. What did thirteen thousand people even look like? They'd been killed at Passover. But the angel of death hadn't passed over them in Warsaw.

Alice barely bothered to dry her hair before changing into her sleeping clothes. With the white shirt sticking to her damp skin, she ducked back outside where Talbert and Skinny both stood silent.