A Soldier of No Importance [ Band of Brothers ] 1

FIFTY ONE

On the fifth day since the invasion, they stopped at a small town not too far from Carentan. This was the edge of their line; Able, Baker, and Charlie companies had liberated it that morning. Not far ahead, the target for Easy loomed. Carentan. The current stronghold of their German counterparts.

Clouds filled the sky overhead. Even at 1500 hours, it felt darker than it should've. Sporadic artillery fire and machine gun rounds could be heard in the distance, down the road. The impending large scale attack loomed. The restrictions on noise had been lifted as soon as they reached the town; the Germans knew they were there anyways.

After an hour briefing with Easy, Dog, and Fox Company's officers, led by Nixon, she wandered out into the town. Night had started to fall. While noise discipline still wasn't enforced, they were told to keep light to a minimum. The last thing they needed was for an ill placed fire to add a big target to their lodgings for the night. So Alice picked her way around fallen bricks in the dark.

She'd picked up a sniper variant of the Karabiner 98k from battalion. Of all the soldiers on the battlefield, Alice alone had experience with the German rifle. As she sat in the dark, in a deep door frame of a house that still stood in tact, Alice ran her hands over the weapon. It felt good to have her sniper rifle back.

Wood frame, black finish, telescopic sights still in tact, it reminded her vividly of her Maquis days. As much as she'd come to appreciate the American and even British weapons, the stolen German weapons still felt more familiar, more effective. The work of a sniper was quick, efficient, subdued. As much as she appreciated the necessity of soldiers running into enemy fire and throwing grenades, she preferred the accuracy and feel of killing from a distance.

"You should get some sleep."

Alice looked up. Gene stood in front of her. He held his helmet at his side and ran his other hand through his black hair. Dark circles under his eyes betrayed his own exhaustion. Alice just shrugged. Something, some emotion, had a stranglehold on her voice. Alice didn't know if it was fear, or anticipation, or self loathing. But though she loved having the gun she'd first learned to shoot with in her lap, it also brought back more than its fair share of things she'd rather have forgotten.

When she realized Gene still stood in front of her, Alice sighed. He hadn't moved. So she just shook her head. "Gene, I don't feel like talking right now."

"Any idiot can see that," he told her. Easing himself down beside the door frame, against the brick wall, he sighed. Gene closed his eyes and let his head rest. But he kept talking. "You been mighty quiet since you got that gun."

Alice's voice caught again. She didn't have an answer. What was she supposed to say? Every time her hands moulded to the grip, she remembered pulling the trigger. Not that she doubted that the Nazi men she'd killed hadn't deserved it. But her thoughts drifted back to the question she'd been asked by Joe Toye.

What did she miss most from before the war? Herself. She'd learned fast how to survive, and much of the time surviving meant killing the enemy first. Alice wondered how her parents and sister would've felt, though, knowing how many times Alice had pulled that trigger and planted a bullet between the eyes of a German officer. Some part of her herself hated it. She could only imagine how much Bernadette would've been disgusted by her. But Alice didn't have the luxury of regret anymore.

"Guarnere would have a party with the amount 'a thinking you're doing."

"I'm sure he would."

The two fell back into silence. Gene sat with his eyes closed, head against brick. Beads of his rosary clinked together as he moved them, reciting the prayers in his mind. With a silent sigh, Alice put the rifle down. She shifted her helmet off and, using her jacket as a pillow, laid down in the small space.